


I Wish I Were Crazy

by Girl_WithTheDirtyMind



Series: Smut, Angst, and Deliciously Dark Plot Lines [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angry Dean Winchester, Anticipation, Bad Decisions, Begging, Blood, Cocky Dean, Crying, Demon Dean Being an Asshole, Demon!Dean, Dom/sub Undertones, Emotional Hurt, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fear, Fear of Rape, Feels, Flirting, Fluff, Helplessness, Hostage Situations, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Mental Battles, Mild Comfort, Mind Games, Nightmares, Non-Sexual Bondage, Painful Sex, Plot Twists, Porn With Plot, Prophet!Reader, Prophetic Visions, Protective Sam Winchester, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sam Being Sam, Sam Love, Sarcasm, Scary Dean, Sensuality, Sexual Content, Slow Build Sam Winchester/You, Smut, Some Helplessness, Spunky Reader, Surprises, Swearing, Sweet Sam, Threats of Violence, Violence, Worried Sam, conflicted feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-03-17 12:08:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 46,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3528836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Girl_WithTheDirtyMind/pseuds/Girl_WithTheDirtyMind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You have been having confusing visions starring the Winchesters and their issues with the Mark of Cain. Of course you assume your crazy. Until the night Sam Winchester yanks you from the street on a walk home from work, and requests your help in a not so friendly fashion, and hurls you head first into certain danger.</p><p>The two of you probs fall in love though. . . Let's be honest.</p><p> </p><p>**Triggers tagged at the beginning of each chapter, so as not to give anything away. ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meeting Sam Winchester

**Author's Note:**

> I'm writing this chapter by chapter.
> 
> You (the reader) are pretty fiery compared to my other fics :) enjoy a tougher persona!

The visions were painful and hard to decipher.

You were crazy.

That’s all.

 _I just have to carry on like everything is normal, and no one will try to lock me up._ But the dreams were always so vivid. . . It was like your mind made these detailed characters, and occasionally showed them going through various traumatic events, family problems, and. . . _an apocalypse_?

Yeah definitely crazy.

You had just gotten through another one of your unsettling mental breaks, and like always just got right back to whatever you had been doing. In this case, walking home from work.

A few days prior to this one, your brain decided to let you know that the people of your imagination just attempted to murder an extraordinary powerful man you came to know as Metatron, who looked oddly like a tiny chubby hedgehog. Even though you knew he wasn’t real, you found yourself _hating_ that fucking guy. Which worried you even more.

The men in your mind failed of course, the man called Dean Winchester was stabbed to death by Metatron at the end of your vision. 

The scene you’d had just now however, showed the same man who died -Dean- waking up with pitch black eyes.

Yeah. You were freaked.

_Why did I have to see that while I’m walking home in the fucking dark?_

The late walk home from work always made you nervous though. Mostly because there was a State Penitentiary about a mile up the road, but now even more so because of your visions.

They scared you a little, always dealing with demons and ghouls, and while they were happening you couldn’t tell what was real and what wasn't. The rumbling of an engine cut off your train of thought, and you focused your attention on the task at hand.

Getting home safely.

You found it odd that there were no headlights shining to accompany the sound of a car so close, and you quickened your pace slightly. The engine cut. Your entire body was screaming at you to run the rest of the way home. . .

Every nerve seemed to be buzzing with the idea that someone was approaching you. But in order to avoid looking crazy, which was your number one priority these days, you forced yourself to walk at a normal pace.

That was a mistake.

You should have listened to your intuition, like your mother always told you. . . That little voice in the back of every woman’s head that screams “ _danger turn back now!”_ But you didn’t.

You heard exactly two quiet footsteps close behind you before a humongous hand clamped over your mouth, to quiet any screams that might’ve slipped out. You screamed as loud as you could into the hand anyway, which only resulted in it tightening over what felt like your entire face, painfully.

_How fucking big is this guy?_

“Hey calm down, I just want to talk.” _Nope._ For all you knew next thing he would be saying is _“I just want to put the tip in”_ , so you dropped all of your things and began to scratch wildly at his giant hand, screaming all the while.

You heard him huff loudly behind you, before effortlessly dragging you into the nearby alley and smashing you hard against the brick building. _Ow_. Your face was pushed into the unrelenting brick, and you could taste blood in your mouth from the force of impact.

You squeezed your eyes closed to block out the pain,

“Please sir, just take my money-whatever you want,” _please let him be a mugger._ He snorted softly at your muffled request,

“I told you I just wanted to talk,” he flipped you around to face him and you cracked your eyes open hesitantly. The man was a monster. He was looking down on you from what felt like an entire foot higher.

His broad chest rising and falling in time with barley labored breaths from what you thought was a valiant struggle. Hell, the guy could probably kill you with one punch.

_Yep I’m dead._

His face was cast in shadows but had shoulder length brown hair, that looked so familiar . . . you just couldn’t seem to place it.

“My name’s Sam.” you waited, but that was all he said.

“ _And_?” he shifted, clearly annoyed with your attitude so far, then told you matter of factly,

“You're coming with me, there are some things we need to discuss.” _The hell I am!_

“No thanks, I think I’ll just go home and _not_ be murdered if you don’t mind,” with a spark of hope, you edged along the brick, praying he would just let you go. No dice.

His arm snapped out to grab your upper arm, his large hand wrapping around the entire thing,

“I never said there was a choice  ,” that did it, you let a scream rip from your chest hoping to God someone would hear you before he did something awful.

Before you had time to react, he roughly grasped a handful of your (h/c) hair and cracked your skull against the rough wall.

At least he gathered you up while you fell.

All you wanted to do was struggle, but your vision was fading quickly and your limbs were jelly. You felt a jostle as he hoisted you from the ground without so much as a grunt, and then it went completely black.

 

 

Your eyes cracked open painfully, and your head pounded with what felt like the worst migraine known to man. Although your vision was blurry, you deducted that you were laying in the back of a car on what felt like smooth leather.

There were no noises that hinted it was moving though. . . In fact it was completely silent except for a continuous tapping that sounded like it might be a keyboard. It was still dark outside, and you were relieved that you hadn’t been out that long.

You could still be close to the city. His deep voice startled you a little, but he wasn’t talking to you,

“Yeah I have her with me,” he was talking on the phone, “I know, I’ll talk to her if she wakes up.” another pause followed by a worried sigh,

“Well she’s been out for. . . going on 21 hours now, and I think I cracked her head pretty hard off of the wall.” _21 hours? It’s been a whole day, and I’m not at a hospital? This guy definitely doesn’t care whether I live or die. ._ another long choppy sigh dragged out of Sam,

“This whole thing is making me crazy Cas, once we find Dean we’ll all be back to our normal selves.” Pause. “Yeah I hope so, talk to you soon.” Despite his calm voice, as soon as he hung up the phone, he launched it into the passenger door with enough force to smash it.

You watched the pieces explode around the car reflecting off the moonlight and wondered how the hell you would get out of this. While you studied the shattered screen on the floor, you hadn’t noticed your unstable captor had turned around to face you.

“Pretending to be unconscious won’t work with me .” You jumped at his low voice, but slowly drug your eyes up to meet his.

They were deep brown and full of emotion, the most prominent one being anger at the moment.

You shivered, and decided pride wasn’t as important as living.

“Listen, I don’t know what you want, but I have money and if you let me go I swear I’ll- "

“You’re not going anywhere,” your eyes teared up despite yourself, and you could’ve sworn you saw his features soften a little.

That might of just been wishful thinking,

“Get out.” he ordered, before he turned to do the same. You couldn’t make yourself move, though. From where your head lay on the seat you couldn’t see much, only a telephone pole interrupting the endless dark sky, no other lights besides the stars and the bright moon.

_The middle of nowhere._

You saw him pause halfway out the door when he heard you snivel, he was still gripping the door handle.

He looked like he wanted to turn to glance at you, but instead his jaw ticked in what looked like anger and he just stared out into the night. You watched him fearfully for a long beat of silence until you couldn't handle it anymore,

“Please don’t hurt me,” your voice had gotten small, as the weight of the situation came crashing down. The only reason you knew he’d heard was because he flinched at the pleading note in your voice.

But instead of reassuring you like you hoped, he just repeated himself irritation ground in his voice,

“Get out ,” then he opened his squeaky door the rest of the way, and slid out into the cool night. You heard gravel crunching under his feet, while he made his way to your door.

You sat up and quickly scooted to the far side of the seat, and when he opened the door you wrapped your arms around yourself and tried not to look at him. _He can’t expect me to just go along with whatever this is. . Right?_

You heard him sigh heavily and crunch more gravel as he shifted impatiently,

“Get. Out.” he said it through clenched teeth. Like you hadn’t heard him the thirty other fucking times, “I don’t want to drag you out , but I will.” he warned promisingly.

You didn’t want to give him a reason to be violent with you, because you knew he wasn’t afraid to be, but you were terrified of being near him so you sat frozen. Another tremor overtook you when you recalled how easily he’d slammed your head into the wall, and you sniveled again against the beginnings of tears.

You knew you could only hold them off for so long though,

“Please,” you started to beg him again, but were cut short when he abruptly leaned down to reach for you. You panicked and scrambled back into the far door,

“ _No!_ No-wait!" you choked out frantically, "I’ll get out, just _please_ don’t hurt me!” he froze at your outburst and stared at you, looking a little shocked.

There they were: giant, fat, humiliating tears.

Without a word and a furrow of his brow, he straightened and held the door waiting for you again. You let out a huge shaky breath and ever so slowly, like any sudden movement would trigger his violence, began to slide across the seat to the open door.

With every inch gained your heart rate picked up, and panic began to grow in your belly. You wondered if he knew how scary he was. _Probably._

Once you finally made it to the edge of the seat, you unfolded your legs and hung them over the dirt road. _Yep. We're in the middle of nowhere all right._ You watched one of the ugly tears drip down to the ground and turn the dirt dark, your hands gripped the leather of the seat waiting for him to snap.

After what felt like year of him just looking at you like that his deep voice broke the silence,

“All the way,” he said it surprisingly gently, but before you could think better of it your head was already shaking side to side in defiance.

_I’m such an idiot._

You yelped loudly in surprise and fear when he gripped the top of your arm and jerked you to your feet. His speed would never fail to amaze you, a man that size shouldn’t be able to move that deadly quick.

A humiliating sob finally broke free from your chest, and you silently thanked God that no one was there to see you like this,

“Quit crying.” he demanded sounding a little uncomfortable, “I told you I just want to talk.” he released your arm and you brought it to your chest with the other, but you looked up at him.

“Oh I’m supposed to believe that you knocked me out and brought me out to God knows where to have a friendly conversation?” He closed the door gently, it was hard to make out his features in the darkness, but you were sure he wasn’t happy with your change of tone.

You don’t know where your sudden courage came from, but a fiery part of your soul was done being quiet and letting him see how afraid you were.

“Go ahead asshole, do your fucking worst!” you screamed up at him, “Don’t expect me to go down easy you god damned coward.” When he turned to you the full moon illuminated his face, and revealed an amused smirk pasted across it. 

“I have AIDS!” you wailed desperately in a last ditch effort to curb him from violating you at all. He snorted and took a step toward you.

That was all it took for your courage to go right back into hiding.

You jumped away from him, and circled your arms back around yourself, trying your best to keep a defiant look on your face.

But you were scared. Who wouldn’t be? He snorted at your obvious emotional battle, and finally said,

“Look, I didn’t bring you out here to hurt you. We would still be on the road if Cas hadn’t called, and I figured once you woke up you could use some fresh air.” he put his arms out as if to reaffirm his promise and added with no lack of amusement,

“No one has to fight anyone.” He smiled. And damn if it wasn’t the most beautiful smile you’d ever seen on a man. Swallowing heavily you kept your distance, “and I’m sorry to hear about your aids.” he added trying and failing to hide his laughter.

“You smashed my head against a building,” you reminded him flatly,

“Tensions have been a little high lately, you were causing a scene and instinct took over.” he shrugged at you. Fucking _shrugged_. You wondered idly what kind of life would give a man instinct like that.

“Why the fuck am I even here?” his smile faltered a little and you watched him have a mental debate before he dug around in his jacket to produce a flashlight and a scrap of paper.

“Come here,” he coaxed gently.

“Keep dreamin stud,” you retorted stubbornly, earning a world class bitch face from the giant. He tossed you the flashlight and set the paper on the ground before moving a safe distance away.

“I would’ve thought you’d recognize me, but maybe you’ll recognize that.” admittedly intrigued now, you cautiously made your way over to the paper and plucked it from the rough gravel. Keeping your eyes on Sam the whole time.

You peered at the paper and illuminated it with the dim light beam. There was an odd shaped drawing that looked like some sort of ancient symbol. . . Sure enough after a moment of staring at it your eyes widened with recognition and you gasped aloud.

Your gaze shot to his face to see him watching you hopefully.

“The Mark of Cain,” you breathed shakily. “Why do you have this?” His mouth fell open in shock, and he stepped toward you.

“So you recognize this?” he pointed at the paper. You weren’t sure how to explain to him how you knew, and were worried he would think you were nuts.

“Um Genesis 4:15. . .?” he squinted at you, seeing right through your lie.

You’d never even read the bible, but this mark was staring in most of your visions. Somehow you just knew exactly what it was.

When you didn’t say anything, Sam surprised you by letting you know,

“I know about the visions , you’re not crazy.” he sighed heavily before reluctantly adding, “You’re the next prophet.”

_Ha. He's even crazier than me. Great._

You dropped the paper, and let it blow away,

“W-who are you?”

“I told you, my name is Sam Winchester.”

_Winchester._

_Oh. My. Fucking. God. Sam_ fucking _Winchester!_

“Sam?” you repeated in a high whisper, and he looked surprised that you were walking toward him, “You look different in my visions. . _better_ though.” you added absently.

“Are you alright?” he reached for you, and you let him, “do you need water or anything?”

“I’m not crazy.” you breathed smiling up at him, and suddenly began to giggle. That was the first time you laughed in a while, “Sam fucking Winchester.” you pulled the man in for a hard hug, causing him to grunt. “Damn have you sure been through the ringer.”

“I guess you could say that,” he chuckled against you, and you pulled away realizing you must look nuts. But you felt like you knew the man personally. Like you’d gone through it all with him, and you were suddenly not afraid of him anymore.

In fact, he was one of the best people you knew.

A thought occurred to you then, “Dean is- Oh _god_ I’m so sorry,” you started, but he cut you off with a shake of his head.

“That’s why I’m here, we need your help.” he looked at you warily, “Dean’s a demon.”

_Well then._

“I don’t have aids.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoping to post weekly! Comments and suggestions please! :D


	2. Mistakes Get You Killed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Sam hatch a risky plan to capture Demon Dean, and it turns out you secretly might not be as brave as you let on. . . That can just stay between you and I though ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to update! Spring Break shenanigans and all. . . Hope it's worth your while so far  
> P.S.- The conversation between Sam and Dean on the phone is blatantly stolen from season 10 episode 2 when Sam walks into the bar to talk to Demon Dean. Watch that crap if you haven't already, it's a good'n! :)
> 
> Cross-Your-Heart Bar- a roadside bar that looks real exciting, but dangerous enough that you kinda want to cross your heart and say a little prayer before you step inside!

You were in the front seat of the Impala, silently reeling at how many times you’d seen this exact black ride in your visions. In a way you were more excited about meeting the car than Sam, but you thought it best to quell your feelings so Sam didn't think you were _too_ strange.

Now that you were certain the man wasn't going to harm you, you felt a little embarrassed for crying like a baby in front of him. The way he spoke to you now however, made it pretty clear he’d forgotten about your cowardice for the most part.

_I screamed ‘I have aids’ at him. . ._

You shook your head and fought the urge to facepalm at the memory.

You had been in the car together for going on three hours now, and had successfully hatched a plan to capture his demon brother. . . a plan that you still weren’t totally on board with.

Sensing your train of thought Sam shifted behind the wheel and cleared his throat,

“You’re sure you’re alright with this ?” you loved the way your name sounded in that honey smooth voice, “All you have to do is tell me no, and we’ll think of something else.” he reminded you,

“Sam for the hundredth time, I said it was _fine_!” you groaned loudly, lying of course. In all honesty acting out the plan that Sam had come up with would without a doubt be one of the most nerve wracking things you’d ever done.

Surely you would find a way to mess it up somehow, and if it were anyone else besides a Winchester sitting across from you. . you would have immediately told them to fuck off. The big man sighed loudly at your guarded attitude,

“So let’s run through it one more time then,” _looks like he has about as much faith in me as I do._ “we’re only about five minutes from the bar.” he explained with a worried crease of his brow. _Yep. Zero faith._

The butterflies began shooting your stomach with grenade launchers, as your mind realized just how soon you would have to execute this plan.

“Nope, I don’t need to run through it again,” you were good at keeping a confident exterior with all the practice you’d had over the years, everyone you knew thought that you were the toughest woman on the planet.

Well except Sam of course, he’d seen your true colors on the road earlier.

“I just have one question though. . .” you shoved your hands under your thighs so he didn't see them trembling.

“Shoot.” he glanced at you briefly,

“How are you so sure that he’ll choose the first hotel in the phone book?” it seemed like a crazy thing to assume to you. Sam adjusted his grip on the wheel and you watched the muscles in his jaw tick, the natural action made your face heat up.

_Now is definitely not the time for naughty thoughts. . . but lord look at those eyes. . ._

“It’s just something he’s always done, one of our weird hunting tricks.” when you only stared at him he elaborated, “if we ever got separated from one another on a particularly dangerous hunt, we would meet back up at the first motel in the phone book. _His_ idea. . . always something he’s done.” he repeated again with noticeable strain.

_If he doesn’t get his brother back he’s gonna go off the rails._

“Got it.” you said quietly. You stared out the window at yellow rolling hills, squinting against the bright morning sun, and wondered what kind of whack job would be at a bar this early in the day. _Oh that’s right. A fucking demon._

 “Oh yeah by the way Crowley might be in the bar when you get there, but don’t let him scare you. He’s on our side-”

“Like _Crowley_ Crowley?” your voice became high. Goddamn Sam Winchester wrecking your cool again. “As in the King of Hell?” Sam snorted at the title,

“Yeah that one, don’t worry about it he’s mostly talk.” he reached across you to pop open the glove compartment, dug around for a moment, and produced an old tracfone. “As soon as you get out of this car, call me so I can listen in on everything that happens. Just press 1 one the key pad.”

“If Crowley is real. . . Does _Castiel_ exist?” you were still stuck on possibly meeting the King of Hell, Sam chuckled knowingly while gazing down the deserted highway.

“Oh believe me. . Pretty much everything exists.” all too soon Sam pulled the car into a gravel parking lot. You took the phone while staring at the neon signs lighting up the shabby looking biker bar,

“Well this sure is a cross-your-heart bar if I’ve ever seen one. . .” you mumbled to yourself, forgetting for a moment that Sam could hear you.

“ _Cross-your-heart bar_?” he repeated incredulously.

You only shrugged meekly in response and he shook his head with soul melting grin on his face,

“Remember what to say if anything goes wrong in there?”

“Poughkeepsie. . .?” you answered in the form of a question, and holding his beautiful smile he reached over and squeezed your thigh reassuringly.

“Exactly, just make sure Dean doesn’t hear you say it,” Sam caught the look of stress flash quickly across your features and he squeezed his hand again on your leg, “hey, you can do this. I know you can.”

_Then this guy doesn’t know me at all._

“I know,” you clenched your jaw and pushed open the squeaky car door, jerking out of his grasp, “now shut up and get to that motel Champ.” you heard him snort at the term before you slammed the door. Before you could change your mind about any of this, pebbles were noisily colliding with each other as the Impala peeled out of the parking lot.

Blowing out a deep breath you pushed 1 one the phone like Sam had instructed and listened to it ring twice before he picked up.

“Still doing alright?” his deep gentle voice washed over you through the receiver, but you knew the comfort wouldn’t last.

“Yep fit as a fiddle,” you tried to sound cheery, “I’ll just put you in my pocket then I guess..”

“Good idea, be careful in there.” with that you shoved the bulky old tracfone into the back pocket of your dirty white jean shorts, and continued to stare at the entrance to the bar.

_Hey it’s okay, just walk in there like you own the place . . . Yeah. . . And while you're at it ignore the fact that there is a demon you have to hit on._

You gave a little huff,

“Get in there you pussy,” you growled aloud before crunching along the gravel, to the heavy wooden door. The door groaned loudly, protesting your entrance almost as much as your racing heart.

Scanning the room you noticed an elderly bartender staring at you with a painfully obvious look of concern on this face while he dried a whiskey glass. There was only one man hunched over the bar with his back turned to you.

He didn’t even glance your direction when you walked in.

“You sure you’re in the right place?” the bartender called over to you, the words were rude but the way he said it was genuine. You gave him your best indifferent scoff and started toward an empty bar stool at the very end of the bar,

“Who says I can’t get a little wild at seven in the morning?” you saw the man who must be Dean perk up a little at your feminine voice, “I see this sorry sack’s got the right idea, I’ll have what he’s having.” you brushed your fingers across Dean’s back on your way by, and all but sprinted over to the far bar stool.

_Oh my God, oh my God. . ._

When you swiveled your stool around to face the two men, your breath caught in your throat.

Dean Winchester was staring at you across the few stools you’d put in between you and him, with shocking emerald green eyes that were flooded with the promise of mischief and a smirk that liquefied your insides.

His hair was full and casually styled in a way that made you want to rake your fingers through it, and he raised his glass at you, licking those beautiful lips before he downed the amber liquid. _Hey! You’re staring at him dumb ass!_

With great effort you tore your eyes away from him, and began to study your whiskey glass like it was one of the most interesting things you’d seen in your life. _Be cool. . . How do I flirt again?_

“Your glass dirty or somethin’?” the gravelly voice startled you out of your worries, and your (e/c) eyes snapped up to Dean. He was now in the stool next to you and you silently prayed that he couldn’t see the blatant panic behind your irises.

He looked like the devil himself, clad in a red button down with worn in blue jeans that fit him just right. However there was no denying the tangible sinister aura that emanated off of him. It reminded you why you were here, and you felt a trickle of fear slide down your spine at the realization that a demon was standing before you.

“I see you’ve taken the initiative by moving closer to me,” his eyes flashed with something you couldn’t quite place and you worked to keep your voice level, “what if I didn’t want the company?”

He flashed his teeth at you with a stunning smile that almost made you fall from your chair,

“Oh sweetheart, I always take the initiative.” his voice rumbled in your ears, and suddenly the urge to break eye contact was so overwhelming that you could’ve screamed.

“I bet you do Cowboy,” with a grace that you rarely ever had you tossed back the small amount of alcohol the barkeep had given you, and leaned forward to gently place your hand on his thigh.

“ _Ah ah ah_ ,” he chided playfully, raising his eyebrows at your hand, “don’t go there unless you mean it babe.”

“And what if I do?” you slid off you stool and stood on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “What are you gonna do about it tough guy?” you inhaled his scent of whiskey and spice, and tried in vain to steady your racing heart.

With no warning whatsoever his huge hand moved from his whiskey glass, tangled in your hair, and jerked your head back. You yelped at the roughness of it, but he wasn’t quite hurting you.

“ _This_ for starters,” he stood to his full height, towering over your small frame, and dipped his head to trace his soft warm tongue up the length of your neck. “I think we need to finish this conversation elsewhere.” he finished in a growl.

You were absently clutching his hips for dear life, and he probably took that as a sign of arousal, when in fact you were sure the man was about to break your neck. When he released your hair your wide eyes landed on his chest, and you were beginning to realize just how in over your head you really were.

His chest rumbled with a low chuckle and you nervously lifted your eyes back up to his, knowing for sure he could see right through your poised facade now.

“I know I come on too hot sometimes, but babydoll. . .you look like you might have just seen a demon.” His eyes glinted dangerously and he was leaning over you with such malice that your mind buzzed.

_Oh God, does he know? How could he possibly know! He doesn’t. . . Stop freaking out. . . Fuck I need to get out of here! Quick think of something inconspicuous_ ,

“I-um-I have to pee Dean,” you blurted into his face, and waited for him to move out of the way. Which he thankfully did after a moment of sobered blinking,

“I’ll be waiting sugar,” you giggled too loudly while you slid by him and frantically dug the phone out your pocket on the way to the bathroom. You leaned on the flimsy door and let out a huge shaky breath before pressing the phone to your ear,

“Sam?” you whispered into it, “Sam are you there?”

“I’m here, I’m here,” he said quickly sensing your panic, “, you’re doing great. All you have to do now is let him take you to the motel, and I’ll be waiting there.” hearing the confidence in his voice was helping bring your heart rate back down to a normal state,

“Sam I don’t think I can do this, I think he knows! I mean-did you hear what he said about me seeing a demon-”

“Hey relax, there’s no way he could know.” Sam cut you off gently, “It’s almost done, we’re so close .”

“I don’t know if I can. . .” you breathed into the receiver, “what if he just takes me out to the woods and kills me for fun? He’s a fucking _demon_ for Christ sake!” your whispering was becoming loud.

“He won’t.” Sam stated matter of factly, “I know there’s still a piece of my brother in there, and _you_ know what kind of man he is. He would never do that.” that was true you did know Dean.

He possessed one of the most caring souls on the planet, even if he didn’t admit it sometimes.

“Okay,” you took in a lungful of air, “I can do this. .” you whispered to yourself, but Sam answered you.

“Yes you can. You got this, now put me back in your pocket and finish this thing.” you nodded and just before you took the phone off of your ear you heard him say in the most sincere voice you’d ever heard, “I’m proud of you .”

Shoving the bulky phone into your pocket once more you gathered up what was left of your courage and jerked open the door. The hallway seemed a lot darker than when you’d walked down it the first time, but you stepped out of the bathroom before you could think better of it.

Before you had time to register what was going on, two big hands clamped around your shoulders, and you were shoved backward into the hard plaster wall.

Dean was grinning down at you with a look in his eye that made you want to disappear. The scream that was ready on your lips fled back down your throat to hide.

“Now correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think I ever actually gave you my name. . .” his voice was deceptively sweet, “but you sure as hell knew it when you told me you had to pee.” _I-um-I have to pee Dean._

Your eyes widened at the dawning of your mistake,

“A slip up like that’ll get ya killed sweetheart,” he continued to speak kindly to you, and you were wondering when the hammer would come down, “so how about you save us both time by just cuttin the crap and tellin me why you’re really here.”

As much as you wanted to scream and cry, you pulled up your big girl panties and squared your small shoulders as best as you could under his iron grip.

“Comic Con _asshole_ ,” but your voice betrayed you and came out higher and quakier than you would have liked. His expression darkened,

“Looks like you chose the hard way tough girl,” _Wait! No! I’m not actually tough!_

In the blink of an eye you were over Dean’s shoulder without so much as a grunt from the man, he clamped one steel arm over the back of your knees to keep you in place and started for the front of the bar. '

“ _Wait_! Wait no, stop!” you screamed at him and began to thrash wildly, scratching and punching his back wherever you could reach. Dean took absolutely no notice, and continued steadily to the front door,

“Poughkeepsie! _SAM!_ Sam please help me!” you wailed to the phone in your pocket, and Dean completely froze. Your labored breathing was the only sound in the room,

“What the fuck did you just say?” he snarled clearly enraged, you could feel the slight quiver of fury coursing through his body.

“Po-poughkeepsie. . .” you sobbed dangling from his shoulder, “please don’t hurt me. . .” You jerked when you felt Dean’s fingers snake suddenly into your back pocket.

He had found the phone.

“Sammy?” he growled into the receiver, you wondered idly if he could feel how hard you were shaking on his shoulder. “I told you to let me go. . .” Dean lazily reminded him through the phone.

There was Sam’s stern voice on the other end of the line for a moment before Dean cut in casually,

“Did you ever stop to think that if I _wanted_ to be cured I wouldn’t of bailed?” you wished you could make out what Sam was saying through the phone, but he was speaking to quickly to hear much of anything.

“ _Will_ we?” he questioned rhetorically, “Cause right now I’m doin all I can not to throw her down and rip her throat out. . . With my _teeth_.” that had you whimpering like a beaten dog in his grip, and he chuckled darkly before saying simply,

“Goodbye Sammy,” and chucking your phone into the wall across the bar. “Now whaddaya say you and me have a little fun?” he slammed through the doors of the bar into the sunlight, and crunched across the parking lot toward an old black beat up ford pickup.

You started clawing at his back again, knowing full well if he got you in that truck it was all over. The rusted door gave a deafening squeak, and you tried violently to push out of his hold.

“Stop! Put me _down_ you son of a bitch!” you hollered, catching the bartender’s eye as he stepped out for a smoke. “Hey help me! Call the police I’m being kidnapped!” you shrieked at him, still pounding on Dean’s back, “Put me _down_ asshole!”

“My pleasure,” he grunted and threw you into the cab of the truck, you scrambled back into the far door and glanced through the glass to the bartender. He had his phone out dialing frantically.

_Oh thank God._ Dean slid into the driver’s seat, barely even glancing at you and cranked the key in the ignition. You took a huge lungful of air raising your foot poised to kick him in case he tried anything,

“The Dean Winchester I know would never do this,” you whispered. Mencing eyes snapped over to you, and he kept the truck in park.

“Sorry sugar, have we met?” he growled angrily,

“You don’t know me, but I know who you are Dean.” you cringed at how cliched that sounded, and his smirk let you know he thought the same thing. “I’m so sorry this happened to you, you don’t deserve it.” you searched his eyes for something, anything that would let you know there was still some good left in him.

And you saw it.

A tiny twitch of his lips, and then it was right back to pure rage, but at least it was something.

“You got no idea what you’re talkin about,” he leaned toward you, and you pulled your foot higher aimed at his face and ready to fly. “I _like_ the new me.”

“No-deep down I know you’re hurting, I can see that you know this isn’t right.” you were grasping at straws, stalling until the police or Sam would show up. “Dean just let me out of the truck, Sam and I can _help_ you.” your eyes welled a little, but you fought back the weakness,

“Shut up,” he said in a low warning voice,

“Dean you don’t want this-”

“I said SHUT UP!” he roared, vibrating the whole cab and coming dangerously close to bursting your bladder.

You did shut up. You _completely_ shut up.

He slowly closed his rage-darkened green eyes, and when they reopened they were solid black. You blinked thinking you were seeing things, but it was just like your vision.

The image made you break the heavy silence with a scream, and you flipped over to claw at the door handle trying to get away from the very real monster. Through your hysteria you vaguely registered Dean’s door squeaking back open, and you felt his strong hand clamp around your elbow.

“ _No_ , let go of me! Don't do this!” you wailed at the demon, clawing at the leather seat as he easily dragged you from the pickup. Fat drops of rain gently began pattering on the gravel, and you looked up to see that the sky went dark with storm clouds.

_Fitting._

Your mind still had the nerve to be sarcastic, when you were pretty sure you were about to die in a minute.

Dean was roughly yanking you back toward the bar, where the bartender was still rambling to dispatchers on the phone. Dean abruptly whirled around to face you, boring his black orbs into your frightened (e/c) ones.

You had to look away from the terrifying picture, but his other hand gripped your face savagely and pulled you back to attention. A sob broke from your chest, and he grinned at you in a way that made you wish the ground would swallow you up.

Dean looked utterly and completely evil.

“You think I don’t want this?” not trusting your words, you shook your head as best as you could in his fingers. “Then have a seat,” he threw you to the ground hard and your elbow exploded with burning pain.

_Broken I’m sure. . Don’t you fucking cry._ Your mind reminded you.

"And enjoy the show.” he finished wickedly, before turning his back on you and waltzing over to the man on the phone.

_Oh no. No. No. No._

“Dean don’t!” you screamed at his back, he didn’t even acknowledge you. Instead he managed to snag the man’s cell phone, throw it to the ground, and stomp it out before you could even blink.

The man swung at Dean, who locked an arm around his. With the bartender’s arm trapped Dean threw punch after punch into the man’s face. Soon blood was mixing with the rain on the pavement, making you gag in disgust.

You knew you should be running, but you couldn’t tear your horrified gaze away from the murder occurring before your eyes.

Dean threw the man’s limp body to the ground, only to shoot you a sick wink before he knelt astride the man. You covered your mouth and finally allowed tears to breach your eyelid, Dean continued to deliver deadly blows to the man, grinning all the while his black eyes never returning to normal.

“Dean please stop,” the words came out in jagged bursts, and the only reason you knew he’d heard you over the heavy rain was because he rose up for a moment to look across the lot at you.

“Hold on baby I’m almost done, then you’ll have my undivided attention.” the promise in his words made your heart freeze, and you watched in horror as he lifted the man’s bald head and cracked it over the curb by the bar.

You screamed shrilly when he did it a second time and you actually saw the head split open with a burst of dark red blood, it would be an image you would never be able to get out of your head.

Your eyes remained locked on the dead man, even while Dean made his way over to you. You were clutching your broken elbow, unable to feel the pain momentarily in your haze of disbelief.

“Are we on the same page now?” he mumbled down to you. You looked up to meet his eyes that to your relief we back to his normal electric green,

“You’re a fucking _monster_ ,” you spat at him,

“There we go,” he raised his eyes to glare out at the hills for a moment, and you gathered up all of your courage to take the window he gave you.

Fast as you could your fist flashed out and crashed into his groin with as much force as you could muster in your awkward position and with your left arm, but he immediately doubled over as his air whooshed from his lungs.

“ _Oh_ you bitch. . .” he muttered through a gasp, but you were already scrambling away from him toward the truck he’d left running. You heard his boots quickly advancing over the gravel all too soon.

His steel arms clamped around your waist lifting you from the ground effortlessly while you kicked and screamed mostly in protest, but also from the vivid pain in your shattered elbow.

Just when you thought it was over for you, an odd burning sound erupted over your right ear and Dean bellowed in pain. He dropped you heavily on the ground, and you gasped to catch your breath,

“That’s enough Dean,” it was Sam’s voice, relief flooded your soul and you sobbed into the gravel at the overwhelming feeling. “That’s enough.”

You heard Dean growling, and looked back to see that Sam had somehow handcuffed him. To your increasing confusion Dean’s skin also looked to be sizzling for some reason.

_Whatever just be happy you’re not about to die anymore._

“You alright ?” Sam glanced at you,

“I-I think he broke my elbow,” you gasped, and Sam’s expression tightened. You looked back to the gravel and slumped over onto your side, “Okay um. . . I think I’m just gonna pass out now. . .” you mumbled hazily,

“Real winner you recruited,” you heard Dean grumble sarcastically,

“She’s a prophet Dean.” that was the last thing you heard before you slipped into unconsciousness that was as black as Dean’s eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always comments and suggestions are welcome :) I only want to make ya'll happy! Loves!  
> F.Y.I- I don't want to promise weekly updates, but you can bet I won't leave you hanging.


	3. Feelings Are A Bitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam doesn't quite manage to get his Demon brother safely back to the Bunker for the cure. You get caught up in the meelee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't even say I'm sorry for the wait without sounding like a douchebag. So I would take the time to re-read chapters if I was you since the average person can't remember details from a million years ago. . :) 
> 
> **Triggers: Demon!Dean is a huge creepy jerk, he's very scary which shouldn't be a surprise and there is graphic descriptions of gore. :) Love y'all and thanks for waiting up!! 
> 
> Enjoy~

Rumbling was the first thing you were aware of. Rumbling like an old car on a highway, and somehow it was familiar. So familiar that your brain connected the dots even before you fully came out of unconsciousness.

_The Impala._

The realization made you feel safe, solely because your visions had given the impression that no harm would come to you whilst in the protection of that car.

“Mmm,” it was a low hum almost directly in your left ear, “I think your new friend is finally coming out of her wimp coma.” _Dean_. You could hear the smile in his voice,

“Shut up Dean,” Sam sighed, “she was in a lot of pain alright? Thanks to you.” you shifted and groaned, not yet opening your eyes,

“From a cracked elbow? Give me a break, what a little puss.” he chuckled and suddenly something nudged your fracture and you snapped up in your seat with a broken scream,

“Dean!” Sam swerved a little while he smacked at his demon brother’s shackled arms reaching over the seat. Dean was outright laughing at your pain, and it only escalated at your reaction when you saw how close to you he was.

Another yelp left your lips as you tried to twist your body away from him and fell off of the seat to the floor,

“Ah - _ow_!” you cried when the fall jostled your elbow, but when you got a load of the evil demon peering over the seat, you cowered further under the glovebox with a frightened little whimper. Dean only grinned.

“Heya sweetcheeks,” he leered openly, and it made your stomach churn. When his eyes turned black however, your face paled. “Oh don’t act so scared. . I know you wanna take a ride with me. Come on, tell Sammy how much you want me, you practically had my dick in your hand at the bar.”

It looked like he was about to come over the seat and you let out a dry fearful sob, before swiveling your head to Sam. He just had his brow creased in anger, but it wasn't directed at you,

“, get back in your seat. You’re encouraging him.” it was a gentle - but an outrageous - request. You looked back to Dean, who gave you a black eyed wink,

“N -no. .” it was the first thing you said since waking, and your voice was tiny from fear and scratchy from yelling.

“What? You wanna come sit in the backseat with me?” Dean asked huskily, putting his hands back up on the seat, “We could have all kinds of fun back here, you and me.” you actually gasped when two of his fingers lifted and made a few hard thrusting motions as if he was. . _fingering_ you.

“Stop it.” you begged, finally wiping at a tear. Even joking, demon Dean was terrifying.

“Dean knock it off,” Sam growled, “sit back and quit bugging her.” surprisingly enough, he did as Sam asked, but not before his hooded black eyes raked your cowering form up and down.

He even licked his lips slowly before smacking a loud kissing sound at you,

“Later baby.” it was a promise and it made your stomach drop. It took you two minutes  after Dean had disappeared behind the seat, and multiple coaxings from Sam, to finally crawl back into your seat.

You didn’t dare relax. Dean was watching. . you could _feel_ it.

“Wh-where are we?” your voice was trembling, and by the snort from the backseat, Dean heard it loud and clear. All of your poise and false bravery had been chased out of sight, and your face burned at how pathetic you probably appeared,

“We’re headed to Kansas, you’ve been out for around two hours. Only one more to go.” you swallowed,

“B -but. .” you trailed, bristling when Dean mimicked you from the backseat. You pretended you didn’t hear though, “I have a broken elbow. .” Sam shot you a sympathetic gaze,

“I’ll set the bone when we get back to the Bunker.” you gulped audibly, wishing he would have just tended to your injury when you were unconscious. Plus the word Bunker, didn’t sound too appealing right then,

“I’d rather go to a hosp-” your sentence was cut off by your own scream as your head was jerked back over the seat by the roots of your hair,

“Maybe,” Dean’s voice was a growl, and his breath was hot on your ear “I’ll set it for ya right now, how’s that sound sweetheart?” a choppy terrified whine cut from your throat,

“No -no let _go_ of me!” you cried, trying not to jostle your elbow by squirming. He didn’t release you though, instead his other hand was reaching for your broken bones - trying to adjust so he could get to it with the shackles on.

Sam was yelling, but your brain was too focused on potential and current pain, that nothing he was saying was hitting your ears.

“No, no. .” you sobbed, finally allowing tears to leak out as his hand drew nearer,

“Oh come on babe, I wanna hear you scream for me.” he purred, _licking_ the side of your face as he held it in a painful vice grip,

“Please,” you wept to the demon when his fingers finally came to rest on your elbow. He didn’t squeeze yet, “Please don’t. .” you were weeping pathetically and squeezing your eyes closed, bracing for pain, but all you got was his gravelly voice back in your ear,

“You listen to me,” it was so low you wondered if Sam - who was flipping out in the driver’s seat - could hear him, “You fucked me over sweetheart, nothing good comes out of that. . For _you_ anyway.” your breath was coming out in harsh pants now, with the word “ _no_ ” sobbing out on every one of them.

He chuckled at your pleas,

“I'm gonna educate you on what happens to teasing little whores,” he growled, tightening his hand in your hair, “you deserve it after settin’ me up sweetheart.” suddenly cold liquid hit you in the face and Dean roared as he fell back in his seat as that odd sizzling noise took up again.

Sam was holding a silver flask, looking a little worried at the expression on your face. It had to be a sight,

“What’d he say to you?” you couldn’t answer him with how hard you were crying now, and instead sunk down into a little ball against the window to hide from all of this.

“I - I just wanna go _home_. .” you whispered tearfully, jumping sharply when you felt a big hand come to rest on your drawn up knee. It was only Sam though, he looked torn up at seeing your true feelings in such a raw form.

Your tough girl routine was hiding like the little bitch she was. Oh well, he could probably see right through it all along anyway.

“I’m so sorry , I can’t let you go back. You can’t protect yourself from everything. . not the things that are after you anyway.” you glanced back at Dean, who appeared to be pouting in his spot all slouched against the window.

However when your eyes connected, he smirked and lifted his fingers from his knee in a little wave. You shuddered. Then, as if things couldn’t get any worse, there was a sudden cramp in your lower abdomen,

“ _Sam_?” he snapped to attention at the shrill tone of your voice. So did Dean oddly enough, “Sam th-there’s something - _AH_!” you folded tighter into yourself and clutched your stomach at the sharp pain resonating there,

“Sam there’s something wrong!” you wailed, writhing on the seat in agony. Dean’s head poked up from the backseat again, looking curious with pursed lips and all.

“Shit -” Sam jerked the car to the shoulder of the deserted highway and got out quickly. Dean winced when you let out another scream of pain,

“Jesus princess keep it down.” he griped,

“It - It _HURTS_!” you shrieked, tightening up at the constant stabbing pain, coupled with your screaming elbow that you couldn’t relax. _Oh shit what the fuck is going on. .?_

“Well we already know you're kind of a baby so -”

“Shut the fuck up Dean,” Sam bit as soon as he opened your door and reached for you, “stand up, you gotta stand up for me. .” he spoke softly,

“No Sam! It _hurts_ \- what’s happening?!” you were absolutely bawling, and Sam looked terrified. _It has to be something supernatural right? Please be something supernatural. ._

“Where? Where are you hurting?” he was scanning you intently,

“My - my stomach. .” you panted, “Oh _God_. . Oh God make it stop!” and then the pain spread, and you shrieked at the feeling migrating to the apex of your thighs - like your opening was spasming on it’s own.

“Shh, shh, try and relax. . Oh _fuck_. . .” his eyes were zeroed in on your hips and upon looking down yourself, you found that your dirty white jean shorts had dark red blooming from your womanhood. That had you sobbing so hard you couldn’t breath,

“Sam, what’s happening?” you cried hysterically, praying it was some kind of temporary supernatural thing, but the look on his face was one of real horror. The Winchesters would _never_ look that way at a monster or curse for that matter.

“Um, yeah, _now_ we’re going to a hospital.” and right as he stood up, he hit the ground again. **Knocked out cold _._** Dean was staring down at you, bloodied on the seat with a wicked glint in his eye. _Why didn’t we keep an eye on him?!_

“No!” you screamed, “ _Sam_!” just as you reached for him, Dean grabbed his little brother by the shoulder and threw him out of the way to kneel right in front of you outside the car.

His black eyes were trained on the growing blood stains, but the black shrunk back to reveal pure giddy wonder in his green orbs,

“Well what do we have here?” he reached for your lower half and you fell sideways on the seat to get away, with your head aimed toward the steering wheel.

“D-don’t touch me!” you were weeping in utter terror now, having been left alone with this psychotic demon, in such a vulnerable state and such immense pain. “Please don’t hurt me. . oh please, oh please. . it hurts so much. . _plee-e-ease_. .” and another crippling wave of agony overtook you and made you screech louder than before.

Your lower body was on fire. So much so that you were surprised when the Impala started roaring with sudden acceleration, and when you craned your head on the seat you found that it was in fact Dean driving,

“Please. . .” you whispered again, clutching your stomach rigidly, unable to even shift your head away from his jean clad thigh. Dean barely glanced at you and cranked up a loud radio station to drown out your pained screams.

The ride was Hell.

Even though it only took Dean 45 minutes to find a place to stop, it was filled with torturous pain and unacknowledged screams - pleas even - but Dean ignored it all. _What is he gonna do. .?_ That question played over and over in your head and each time your brain provided an answer that you weren’t willing to accept.

_Nothing good. Something awful._ You thought back to all of those threats from the backseat and cried harder, not even stopping when the music died with the car,

“Oh come on now,” Dean grumbled with a grin, “I’m not such a bad guy. . why don’t you tell me something about yourself sweetheart?” you flinched when he brushed your hair from your eyes,

“Dean - _Dean_. .” you whined shrilly between harsh pants, “Hospital. . _please_. .” he ignored you,

“I wanna know when these visions started,” you squeezed your eyes closed, wishing you could just escape your body,

“I - I don’t -”

“No. None of that bullshit,” he snapped a tad angrily, “When.” you sobbed at his hint of anger,

“Th -three weeks I think. .” you managed, and felt him grunt. Still lying across the seat as you were, all that was visible was the tape deck, a portion of the steering wheel, and the grey sky outside of the windshield. “Where are we. .?”

You sounded garbled, as your dead arm stayed gently draped over the seat and your other ended clamped between your legs. Instead of answering Dean said,

“Everybody out.” like you could even manage moving, and shoved open his door to do just that. Before his door slammed again you caught the faintest hint of rain, and you shut your eyes on it, relishing that familiar relaxing scent.

Too soon though, the door at your feet flew open to let cool air assault your damp skin. Dean sighed sort of roughly,

“You’ve really made a mess of yourself sweetheart, good thing I’m not squeamish.” you made this weird low sound in your throat,

“Don’t - don’t _touch_ me. .” you practically moaned, feeling your eyelids sag in exhaustion. The pain was muted slightly, but you assumed that was only because you hadn’t moved for the past hour.

Dean didn’t even answer before you felt his big hands on your bare calves, the warm contrasting to the chill outside made you shiver, but your tears started up again at the contact,

“No, _no_ -” you begged, “ _please_ don’t touch me!” the hands stayed still on your legs,

“You still hurtin?” the question made your eyes come open in confusion. It was asked so sincerely too, that it caught you off guard. Wearily you answered,

“Y-yes. . .” and peeked over your shoulder at him. He nodded at you, halfway bent down into the door with normal green eyes,

“Alright, let’s get you out nice and slow then. Sound good?” you blinked. That was all you could do right then. . there was no way in Hell you were gonna fall for his sudden nice guy act, but at the same time you were afraid to question it.

After all getting out of the car nice and slow did sound preferable to being dragged out. He ducked his head, slinking his whole huge body over your curled up little one,

“Kay, deep breath for me. I’ll lift you out, try not to tense up.” you did as he asked and sucked in a choppy deep pull, only to let it out in a pained groan as he maneuvered you into a sitting position.

Pain sparked, but it didn’t combust yet.

“There we go,” he practically cooed. _What the Hell is going on_? When he touched your elbow you whimpered loudly, thinking he was about to purposefully squeeze it like before, but all he did was hush you and move it to the center of your body before scooping you up bridal style.

You didn’t like this. There was nothing safe about being with this version of Dean Winchester - he may be acting chivalrous right now, but that’s exactly what it was. . acting. The hammer would come down soon.

When you finally found the energy to turn your face away from the demon, the scene before you crushed your heart with an ice fist. Dean was toting you to what appeared to be an abandoned _homestead_. .

It was partially collapsing in the center of this yellowing field, dark splintered wood looked like a corpse of what once would have been a pretty little cabin. Now though the windows were gaping and glassless, and the door hung permanently open for whoever wished to enter.

Now it happened to be you and Dean. He must’ve felt you tense,

“You know breathing is _necessary_ right?” you looked up at him, but the way he was staring straight ahead held no hint that he had just spoken,

“Why. . why are we here?” it was such a quiet whisper. _Where did all of my bravery go_? Really though, you never had it. It was all an act. Dean’s neck pulsed with a swallow and he craned his head up to look at the darkening clouds,

“You and me well. .” you waited, “We’re gonna play house.” your eyes burned at the implication,

“Just kill me.” you looked down at your stained white shorts, feeling a little hollow. Dean actually jerked with a laugh,

“Prime offer, really, but see I’ve got this theory about you and your little problem here,” he nodded at your blood covered thighs, “and now I gotta see if I’m right. Frustrating how curiosity works sometimes.”

“What’s the theory?” you winced at the jostling that came with Dean marching up the steps to the mangled door. Your nose scrunched up at the soft smell of rotting wood.

“Hey, no spoilers.” he chuckled, stepping through what looked like an old kitchen. On the inside the place didn’t look so rickety, but it was still the furthest thing from where you wanted to be. Which was the E.R.

In the next room there was a dirty thin mattress lying in the corner and a big wooden table in the center of the room. A bedroom/living room/dining room. _God I’m so happy I never had to live like this._ Dean paused in the doorway and pursed his lips in thought, before crouching low to deposit you onto the filthy floor,

“Don’t go anywhere.” he muttered sarcastically before bending to haul up the nasty mattress and toss it on the table like it weighed two ounces. Although Dean only said it to be a dick, you still twisted and tried your damnedest to drag yourself with one arm on your belly back out the door.

It was useless though. Dean was laughing behind you, actually watching your progress with a smile,

“You’re almost there,” he pretended to cheer, “just a little farther and you’re home free.” at his taunting, you just laid your head down on the rotting floor and began to cry quietly.

“ _P_ \- _please_ don’t hurt me,” you wept, terrified at what his intentions were for you. In the middle of nowhere with a demon, in your condition, was nowhere anyone wanted to be. When his boots thudded up behind you, it was like the sound of impending doom, and you clutched at his red button down as he gathered you up from the floor,

“I - I’m sorry I set you up. . .” you wept up at him while he carried you, “I’m _sorry_ , Sam made me do it. . please. .” that was a lie though, Sam wouldn’t have forced you to do anything. Your back touched the thin mattress as he set you down the few inches from where he held you anyway.

“Please, I’m so hurt. . I- I’m _so_ hurt. .” silent tears were pouring out of your eyes, and Dean offered no reassurance of your non-existent safety.

“Quiet.” he growled, leaning over you with his green eyes on your aching midsection. He stared like that for an unsettling amount of time, while you laid there stiff as a board under his scrutiny.

You didn’t dare speak. . even though every cell in you wanted to beg him some more. When his hand floated to your belly however, you couldn’t keep in two threatened breathy little sobs at his touch,

“Shh. . shh. .” he shushed you gently and pressed down on your midsection firmly,

“ _Ow_. . .” you whimpered at the pressure and his eyes went black, causing you to sob in earnest, but you were too afraid to move. So you just laid crying, all splayed out in front of this demon.

A low intrigued growl rumbled through his throat before he said the most unexpected words of the day - of your life maybe,

“You’re pregnant.” your brain went dead and your ears were roaring, but your answer was automatic.

“No I’m not.” he raised his eyebrows and nodded at your blood soaked shorts with a smirk,

“Well maybe not for long,” he removed his hand to grab yours and place it over your stomach, you whimpered again when he pressed down. It was firm there low in your belly, you’d felt it before but made a conscious effort to ignore it. _Classic me._

“It - it doesn’t mean anything,” Dean snorted,

“What - you gonna feed me some shit about _ab_ workouts? Give me a break.” he tossed your hand away, “I can feel the heartbeat princess, there’s no explainin’ that. . so my theory still stands.” his lips pursed while he examined your bleeding center,

“I’m. . _pregnant_.” you whispered, “Fuck.” Dean nodded with wide eyes like he could relate to your situation at all,

“I’ll say,” he straightened up, “I’d ask who the father is, but you seem like the type who might not know. .” _Ouch._ The truth hurts though. . while you remembered the night - vaguely - the details were lost on you. Forget trying to remember some sorry sack that was probably “just passing through” anyway.

The Demon patted the mattress, startling you out of your miserable thoughts,

“I need to make a call sweetheart, don’t worry I won’t be long. . and I’ll bring you a blanket so you can get out of those disgusting shorts.” you blinked. There it was again - a strange humanity in the monster. You watched him walk out wondering just what the Hell he had in store for you, and what his “theory” was that had to do with you being pregnant.

_Pregnant. Jesus Christ I’m fucking pregnant._

The only night you could think of was a few weeks ago at a bar in town. . God you’d conceived a child in a bathroom stall with some rando who’s name you couldn’t place. Hell, you couldn’t even remember the color of his eyes. You closed yours tight at your reckless stupidity.

The frame of mind that you had been in lately was the reason for it all. _Depression_. Not in the most severe sense of the word, but you felt like your life was lacking excitement so you had been obsessed with making it a novel worthy ride.

_Starting_ with a novel worthy ride. _Jesus I need help. ._

“I can’t do this. .” you whispered to no one, feeling helpless tears prick your eyes again, “God I can’t do this. .” your shrill declaration got an answer,

“Don’t be so dramatic babydoll.” Dean was back. You sobbed once dryly at his menacing presence and cracked your teary (e/c) eyes open to find that Dean wasn’t the only man in the room.

Gasping in panic you tried to sit up, immediately being crushed back into the mattress by Dean’s arm,

“No stop it!” you cried, too afraid to fight him. All you could do was lay tense on the makeshift bed with your bloody thighs squeezed together and your good arm clutching to Dean’s to try and keep the pressure off.

“Well?” Dean growled at the new man. You watched him fearfully as he approached with a slightly furrowed brow and stunning blue eyes that were trained on your midsection. That seemed to be the trend lately.

“Who _are_ you?” you whimpered, head swiveling from the familiar man in the blue tie, back up to Dean who was hovering over you, “Who is he?!” a big gentle hand on your midsection made you scream in surprise and fear. Dean winced but the other man remained stoic,

“Jesus baby, you got a set of lungs on you. .” he complained, watching you shake and cry under him. It looked like he wanted to say something to you - he had that strange look on his face again, but when his mouth opened the deepest gravelly voice broke the silence from your feet,

“The child. .” it said, and you craned your neck over Dean’s forearm to peek at him.

“Spit it out Cas, I’m not in the mood for your cryptic bullshit.” _Cas? Like. ._

“ _Castiel_?” you whispered, “Castiel - you’re real?” and just like that another blurry image in your visions cleared to reveal the Angel’s face. You’d seen him too. The Angel stared with sad round eyes,

“You’re child is dying ,” it felt like his words punched you in the gut. Even though you didn’t want the thing, it hurt for some reason. Like you were losing a loved one. “I think it would be best to heal it given the circumstances. .” a tear slipped out of one eye and Dean snorted above you,

“Oh please you didn’t even want the thing, don’t get all weepy on us now.” then he shifted his green eyes to Cas, “What circumstances?” the Angel appeared conflicted to tell you in the presence of Dean, his eyes shifted from you to his demon friend a few times before he finally sighed and said,

“You are not a prophet . Your little boy is.” you had no time to recover before his hand applied pressure and a warm white light saturated your body. Tingling exploded deep within your womanhood, and you guessed it was his grace exploring your occupied uterus.

Bones scraped together and crackled as they moved back into place in your elbow, but there was no pain to go with it and as soon as the bones solidified Castiel took his hand away. Retracting his grace from your limp body. He still appeared to be distraught.

"You may have noticed that details in your visions have been inaccurate or blurred, correct?" he prompted and you nodded at him, it was all you could manage, "It's because your child has never seen life - human faces, places. . they are likely all inaccurate."

“Well congrats on carrying the most incompetent Prophet there ever was.” Dean quipped, before focusing on Cas, “Thanks buddy, now get the Hell out of here. This little girl and I have some things to discuss.” you stiffened, finally twisting out of his grasp and sitting up to scootch toward Castiel,

“No, no don’t leave me here with him!” you burst, glancing at the Demon as he chuckled from behind you, “T-take me with you - I - I need Sam!” When Cas spoke he did so to Dean,

“I don’t think I need to tell you how important the life of this prophet is do I?” Dean only took that in with a smug smirk, “To Angels  _and_  Demons alike?” the Angel nodded imploringly like Dean was a little kid.

“Yeah got it.” he said through his teeth, “Now beat it, I’ve got an Angel blade up my sleeve that I’m just itching to use.” you were gaping,

“You can’t possibly think it’s okay to leave me with _him_!?” you stumbled off of the table and latched onto Castiel’s trench coat, “Please take me with you! He - he’s gonna _hurt_ me. . Cas _please_.” Castiel looked totally distraught,

“Dean, let me take the girl.” he finally looked over your head, “She isn’t of any use to you. You and I both know that keeping company with a Demon isn’t an ideal environment for a growing child.”  _Understatement of the motherfucking year there dude._

Dean clucked his tongue and swaggered forward a step with his arms crossed,

“I’m gonna tell you one more time Cas,” he growled and you shied away from his fiery glare, “Get the fuck out of here. Leave the girl. . you know I’d enjoy watching you die right?” Cas stayed silent, “But you. . you couldn’t kill me if you tried huh? Feelings are a bitch aren’t they?”

Swallowing hard, Castiel turned his flitting gaze back down to you but wouldn’t meet your eyes. Your breath started hitching.

“Sam sends his regards. . I will let him know you are unharmed. We will come back for you.” you pressed into him harder, squeezing on his lapels until an invisible force pushing you back from him and into the far rotting wall. Dean’s hand was raised slightly indicating that it was in fact him who was holding you there,

You were weeping, “Don’t leave me here. .”

“I’m sorry.” he ducked his head and simply disappeared. _Oh my God this can’t be happening._ .

“No!” Dean was standing a few feet away, just leaning on the table with a grin. Like this was the funniest thing in the world. He dropped you back to your own two feet, before stooping fluidly to snatch the blanket from the dirty floorboards, you sunk down the wall as he advanced across the room.

By the time he squatted down, you were sobbing softly, terrified of his intentions for you and your child. His smile was soft though, and all he did was shake the blanket a little,

“Go ahead and get those shorts off sweetheart, wouldn’t want you stewin’ in your own juices would we?” you hiccuped, finding it hard to breath and he took on a mocking pout, “Oh come on, I’m not gonna do anything bad. . what kind of monster hurts a pregnant woman?”

He cocked his head, his crooked smile blinding in the dimming light of the rundown house. “Aw. . what is it babygirl? You're not afraid of me are you?”

“Let me go Dean,” you begged, “please just let me go - I don’t know what you _want_. Sam is -”

“Sammy? Well that’s the point isn’t it?” he chuckled, gripping the hem of your shorts and tugging, ignoring your sobbing protests, “I mean, anyone - even fucking _Cas_ \- can see my baby bro’s got it sweet on you.”

You kicked at Dean desperately when he got the bloodied white material down to your ankles, underwear and all. It only helped him get them completely off.

“ _No_! No, no Dean _please_ -” you turned against the wall and curled up to hide yourself, weeping loudly as he tossed the scrap of clothing behind him carelessly, “I -I’m _begging_ you. . _p_ - _please_ don’t hurt me.” he moved up on you with the blanket splayed out and as soon as the fabric was draped over your bare skin, your breathing slowed a little.

_Oh, he’s not. . touching me. . I thought -_

“Ah, ah, the only reason I’ll hurt you is if my baby brother comes after me. Think of you and your little psychic spawn as leverage - and trust me.” he gripped your chin and turned your face so you had to make eye contact with him. His flooded black.

“If he comes anywhere near us, the bouncing baby boy gets it first.” he nodded your head for you as tears streamed over his fingers. _Oh this is bad. . this is so bad_. . Dean abruptly rose to tower back over your cowering form and simply said,

“Now chill the fuck out sweetheart, wouldn’t want to have another bloody accident would we? I hear stress makes that shit happen.”

_There is no way I’m gonna survive this. . Sam please help me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and suggestions are ALWAYS welcome on here :) Her spunk will come back in case some of you were concerned. Spunky reader doesn't get tagged for nothing! 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and since I actually know where this is going, you by NO means have to wait 6 months for an update! 
> 
> ~Loves y'all <3


	4. Anything Means Anything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A nightmare has you making rash decisions that put you in a dangerous spot, but Demon Dean may be a lot more than meets the eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright my muse seems to have clocked back in, so I've been writing up a storm for the past day or so - I happened to finish this one first, but I'm hoping the next update will either be Midnight or the second part of What Should Never Be. :)
> 
> Thanks for being patient with me and my inconsistent postings! Love ya'll ;) 
> 
> Oh P.S. - for the Sam lovers reading this, I'm aware that he's absent in this chapter, I promise he'll be in the next one. It's looking like a 6-8 chapter work, so you'll get a lot of Sammy <3 Think of it as a slow burn with him/reader.

Outside it was so dark that it was near impossible to see further than the threshold of the cabin.

You were hesitating just inside of the gaping doorway, with the sheet Dean had given you clutched iron-tight to your chest, squinting into the yawning night. It was like a wall of blackness, and in your head you knew that something wasn’t right about it.

_Night isn’t usually this dark . ._

The monster responsible for your trembling limbs and quaking breath, was nowhere to be found upon your wake. Even after watching the doorway for an anxious half an hour, he didn’t make an appearance.

_Maybe he left me here. . ._

No. You wouldn’t be that lucky. Still a little part of your brain refused to give up hope.

Gulping thickly, you stretched your leg into the dark, gripping the door jamb for support. As soon as your trembling toes touched down onto the wooden floorboards of the crumbling porch, a rough sound rolled up behind you.

The sound of a throat clearing.

“Got a hot date little girl?” you froze. _No. . that’s. . impossible. He wasn’t here a second ago_. Lips pressed into a tight line, you closed your eyes and tried not to run screaming when the floor began to vibrate under your bare feet at his lazy approach.

Apparently you didn’t do a good enough job concealing your fear, because his low amused chuckle snaked up your back and into your ears, making your bones shake from the inside.

“I - I. .” you stuttered on a tiny whisper,

“You - You. .” he was right behind you now. So close that his breath tickled the back of your neck from close to a foot higher. God himself couldn’t make you turn around. “Looks to me like my little prize is trying to escape. Is that what’s goin’ on here?”

The sound of his voice. . so dangerously calm, made your knees feel weak and to your horror, there were already frightened tears stinging your eyes.

“N-no,” you whimpered, actively trying to ignore the fact that Dean had just called you his prize, “No, I w-was just looking for you - I thought. . . I thought you left me out here for dead.”

When his hand came up to cup the side of your neck it was a wonder that you didn’t flinch away, it was like your body was too frozen to react naturally. You did stop breathing however.

“Aw sweetie. . .” he drawled, taking on an uncharacteristic soothing lit in his voice, “you know the only reason you’d die out here is if I decide to kill you, right?”

_Oh God. . . please don’t let him hurt me._ You closed your eyes tight. That big hand on the side of your neck compressed suddenly and began tightening gradually, there was no keeping a threatened whine at bay.

“You know somethin’ I hate?” he spoke casually, like he wasn’t hinting at the fact that he may very well choke the life out of you right in the doorway.

“P- _prophets_?” you guessed shrilly, jumping hard when he scoffed sharply,

“Well other than that. .” he agreed, and you could feel his body heat become more prominent. You didn’t dare lean away even though your whole being was vibrating with the need to gain some distance.

Only when his mouth was right beside your ear did he finally snarl, “I fucking _hate_ being lied to.”

There was no time to answer before that hand on your neck was used to rip you off of the doorjamb and send you backward to the floor.

Sprawling onto your back, the sheet peeled off to reveal your bare skin to Dean once again, who to your horror, was watching you scramble around with an icy glare on his face.

He was taking off his belt.

“N-no!” you cried, abandoning your sheet to escape the raging man. Of course you only made it about two feet on your hands and knees before Dean had a hold of your ankle and was jerking you back to him. “No! Don’t _touch_ me!”

“You think you can get the drop on me, huh? That you’re just gonna walk right out of here when I’m not lookin’?” splinters pierced your skin as you were drug across the floor kicking and screaming, “Come here!” he roared as you struggled, scaring a sobbing scream from your chest.

“Let go! I swear I wasn’t trying to escape - I swear, please!” you lied imploringly, redoubling your efforts to get away when you got a load of the leather belt clutched in his free hand. Now folded with the buckle and end tight in his fist. “ _NO_!” you shrieked, “D-don’t hit me!”

“Oh sweetheart. . don’t you know?” he chided, grinning maliciously at your terrified struggles, “Bad girls get a beatin’. . . Might wanna brace yourself.” the belt was swung high into the air, almost grazing the low ceiling before coming down with a whistle to connect with your thighs.

“AHH!” you wailed, desperately trying to jerk out of his hold on your ankle when you felt the burning sting. “Oh God - oh God _no-o-o_!” with a wink, Dean repeated the agonizing blow in the exact same spot before resolving to strapping the entire expanse of your naked body without mercy.

Firm leather slapped your legs, belly, back, breasts, ass, and - perhaps worst of all - your naked sex. Nothing was safe. He even caught you in the face once, before you were reduced to a tiny ball, in hopes of protecting yourself and your child a little. . but your body was on fire.

Every inch it seemed.

Dean only kept bringing down the belt, strapping you hard enough to raise the skin where the leather struck.

After more than two dozen hits, you were past crying, instead it was as if your body was convulsing with pain, jerking in a way that made it look like you were gagging for a few minutes, before your stomach exploded with a whole new type of agony.

An all too familiar one.

“STOP!” you begged, screaming when the belt came down over the small of your back, and startling when there was a stirring in your lower abdomen. _No. .  no, no, no. ._ “Dean _please_!”

Wet warmth spread between your thighs and smeared when you once again tried to get your leg back from the brutal demon - even before you looked down you knew it would be crimson staining your thighs once again.

Only when you reached down to cup yourself, sobbing inconsolably, did Dean stop his merciless torture. The belt hit the hardwood with a clatter, your ankle released to let your leg flop to the floor, and his labored breathing let you know exactly how hard he worked to hurt your baby.

Through blurry vision you saw him _smiling_.

“Well. .” he shrugged, mouth open while he panted, “I told ya not to stress yourself out princess.”

“No. . no. . no. . no. .” the word gradually became louder until you were yelling. Dean began to laugh, like this was the funniest thing in the world, “No! No! NO! _NO_!!” but you're shouting was becoming muffled, like there was cotton in your ears, and the image of the demonized Hunter doubled over was becoming hazy.

_Am I about to pass out?_

 

“NO!” your eyes flew open, scream residual in the echos throughout the miraculously empty cabin. Looking around wildly, you realized that you were still slumped against the wall that Dean had left you against after he’d covered you with a blanket a few hours before.

Warm tears had matted a few strands of (h/c) hair to your face, and you mopped it off of your hot cheeks, blinking intermittently as you took in the quiet room.

There was a glowing fire crackling softly in the old wood stove, warming the back of the room where you were sprawled, even though that front door seemed to be permanently wide open.

You shivered.

No longer did your body hurt, and after a hasty whimpering check, you found that the only blood staining your thighs was the dried mess from earlier.

_. . . A dream. . It was a horrible painful dream._ Your breathing was still a little irregular and it was taking longer than usual to come back from a nightmare - you were shaken. . and being alone was making it much worse.

Not that you thought Dean would be any comfort to you of course. As if things couldn’t get any more uneasy in that overactive mind of yours, a horrendous thought came crashing in out of nowhere:

  _What if that wasn't a dream? What if it was a vision? . . . What if my baby is trying to warn me?_

If that was the case there was only one thing you could do. _I have to get out of here. . I have to find Sam._

Pushing up off of the wall with a long grunt and a few winces due to sore muscles, you readjusted the sheet so that it was completely covering your stiff body, and rigidly began to hurry to the broken door.

Dust and grime was sticking to your clammy feet, and you were becoming dizzy with the frantic swiveling it took to continuously scan the empty room for a spontaneous pissed off Winchester, but you somehow managed to get to the silent exit.

Only to stutter at the doorway. Something was nagging at the back of your mind. . something very _familiar_ , like a deja vu.

Outside it was so dark that it was near impossible to see further than the threshold of the cabin.

You were hesitating just inside of the gaping doorway, with the sheet Dean had given you clutched iron-tight to your chest, squinting into the yawning night. It was like a wall of blackness, and in your head you knew that something wasn’t right about it.

In that very moment, you realized how familiar this was.

“Oh. . _oh_ f-fuck.” you actually screamed when the sound of Dean clearing his throat split behind you, and instead of waiting for him to walk up and throw you to the floor this time, you spun around to face him, plastering your sheet covered body to the doorjamb.

He was about five steps back, in the center of the cabin with a hand buried in his denim pocket. There was that evil smirk in place and arrogant aura permeating the small room, with him as the source.

His eyes however crinkled with something other than amusement when he seemed to notice the sheer terror on your features, nevertheless the man said his line,

“Got a hot date little girl?” a whooshing gasp chopped out of your throat, and then a sob, and you realized with a certain amount of humility, that there were already tears streaming down your cheeks.

_Please, please, please, please. ._

Dean seemed almost confused, and when you began to shake your head back and forth frantically as a silent plea, he shifted his weight to his other foot and blinked in a little show of perplexity.

“Am I. .” he started, squinting at you as you teetered on the edge of a full on panic attack, “Am I missing something, sweetheart?” you squeezed the top of the sheet, flitting your eyes all about the cabin, searching for some kind of plan. .

You knew that there was only one thing that you could do.

Even _that_ was a long shot, but you had to try and change the prophecy somehow if that’s what it was. So, before you broke down into a panic attack, you said a silent prayer for you and your child then promptly turned and flew out the door.

Into the chilly night.

_God please get me out of this. ._ you prayed at the spiritual bearded man that before tonight, you had never spoke to in all of your life. But if he saved you, you would buy a cross necklace and preach his name for the rest of your life. Probably.

Okay, _maybe_.

“HEY!” Dean boomed, crashing out of the cabin after you. Screaming sobs made your lungs work harder than usual, and whipping your head back to find Dean slowed you down a deadly amount.

The big anger crazed man was already off of the porch and pounding up behind you, closing in so quickly that you almost crumpled to the ground and begged for mercy right there. But that wouldn’t be fair to your child.

“Stay away from me!” you shrieked, working hard to make up for having much shorter legs than him. Not to mention running with only one arm to help out is extremely difficult, but there was no way you were dropping the sheet and running naked. No way.

He was so close now that you could hear him breath, but you didn’t dare look back again. It was hard not to wonder what he thought of you, this Hunter turned demon that was watching you sob hysterically as you helplessly ran from him into the deserted nighttime field.

It was a far cry from the girl you thought you were - brave, spunky, and sharp as an axe.

Within a day of meeting Sam Winchester, you were reduced to a weeping damsel: in way over her head and with no clue how she would make it out of a demonic Dean’s grasp alive.

Discovering you were pregnant only added a whole new level of urgency to this situation. You knew as soon as you found out about the baby, and as you ran for your lives now, that you would do anything to prevent Dean from hurting your child.

That included running mindlessly up a grassy hill to get away from him.

Of course you really were no athlete, and that sudden incline had you stumbling and panting up a storm as Dean easily closed in on you. Baring down like an angry alpha wolf.

“ _Please_!” you finally cried, feeling his presence overtake you just before you slipped on a spot of mud and hit the ground with a grunt. Instead of pointlessly scrambling to regain your footing, you stayed face down on you belly crying into the cool grass.

Dean’s boots stepped into view right beside your face, and you squeezed your eyes shut, trying not to make too many pathetic noises. The demon sighed sort of casually, and you could picture him with his hands on his hips,

“Well, I needed a nice little jog anyway.” he muttered, obviously studying you by the subtle slur in his voice, “You know, I could’ve caught ya as soon as your feet hit the grass. . .” another sigh and a smack of his lips, like he was reminiscing an old baseball game,

He continued, “I just wanted to see how far you’d go. _Mmm_ , about half a mile. Not bad at all, considering.” you almost asked _‘considering what?’_ but his answer would not doubt have just been insulting anyway.

“I’m sorry I ran.” you whimpered, just praying that he wouldn’t be too mad. . He didn’t sound _too_ mad. . “I’m _sorry_. .” you hiccuped a little, sniveling in the grass, likely appearing as frightened as you felt.

A huge rough sigh from him startled you,

“Alright, come'ere.” his boot crunched on frosted earth when he stepped forward to grip your arm. He jerked it in what you took as a hint of violence,

“No! No, _no_ , Dean please -” you squirmed, slapping at him recklessly. His prickly stubble scratched your hand when you actually hit him in the face, and his low growl didn’t sound too happy.

It only spurred on your slap attack, and you landed a few more ringing hits randomly around his body and neck.

“Ugh, for fuck’s sake.” he grumbled, annoyed, dropping your back to lay limply in the damp dirt. You curled up, squeezing your knees and clutching the sheet as the cold really started to become prominent to you.

Everything was quiet for a moment. So quiet that you might convince yourself that you were alone out there if you closed your eyes for long enough. Of course the somber atmosphere only lasted for a few minutes.

It was the subtle jingling that got you.

The tiniest of tiny noises really. One that symbolized different things for different people - pleasure, joy, early mornings, fucking Christmas - but for you in that moment, in a dark field that was dimly lit by the smothered moon, it meant pain. Death. Fear.

So you reacted as such.

“No!” you rolled, twisting your body and kicking out to gain some distance. Just like in the dream, a big rough hand wrapped around your flailing ankle and squeezed. The familiarity of the action made you shriek. It was a wonder you were able to keep hold of the sheet through this whole ordeal.

“Quit tryin’ to get away from me.” Dean growled over your bawling. A glance back flooded you with anxious relief in seeing that his brown leather belt was still buckled in it’s place around his waist, instead of in his hand like the nightmare.

An idea struck: This time instead of struggling and trying to escape the heinously strong man, you rolled, curving your body toward him and reaching out while trying to get up onto one knee. You were gonna get to his belt before he did.

Dean dropped your ankle, wrinkling his brow in confusion yet again when it became obvious that you were coming toward him. Crawling really. It must have looked funny since you were still sobbing in terror as you shuffled quickly forward.

“What. . .” Dean sort of breathed, taking on an irritated edge when you sprung forward and latched onto his ankle, “What the hell are you doin, girl?”

Using your hold on his leg, you gripped around the back of his knee and sort of climbed his long slightly bowed legs, with your wet cheek pressed up against the dirty rough denim of his thigh

Without looking up, you swallowed the minuscule amount of pride you still had and clasped your hand firmly around his belt buckle, sort of pulling on the front of his jeans in the process.

The worst part about it however, was that the action forced you to abandon the top of your sheet - leaving your only cover to slide down your chest and pool around your hips.

_Not the most important thing. . not important. ._

“Hey,” Dean balked backward a little but you held on tight and were simply drug the few inches with him, taking the thin sheet even further down your chilled body. You were exhausted. From the fighting and the running and the fear. . all of that combined would overwork any woman - especially a pregnant one.  

“Dean -” a single shrill sob cut you off for a moment, “I - you - _please_ don’t hurt my baby.” you wept, finally looking up at him to find wide green eyes and a slightly gaping mouth, blurred through pleading tears.

Since he didn’t speak up, you sailed on, “I-I’m sorry I ran, but - but there was this nightmare - or a prophecy -or - or -”

“Okay hold on now -”

You interrupted him with more tearful babbling, scooting impossibly closer against him with the hopes that you could hang onto that buckle.

“I just ran to protect my baby - please, _please_ don’t hurt him! I’ll do anything I swear - oh God I’ll do anything. . p-please don’t hurt him. . .” as you begged, the hand that was wrapped around Dean’s leg, naturally came down to circle your torso. To protect your son.

You were so distraught that you didn’t even realize the word ‘ _please_ ’ was still whisping out of your trembling lips, until Dean finally interrupted you.

“ listen -”

“I’ll be good - I won’t run again, I won’t fight with you anymore, I - I’ll help you trick _Sam_! Please. . Dean please. . _anything_. . .”

“Alright, alright I fucking heard ya.” he snapped, when you looked up, you didn’t like the expression on his face. It was one of possibility, his full lips were pushed out in a silent thoughtful pout as his darkened green eyes raked over your groveling form.

It was as if he was thinking up all of the things that he could get you to do in order to protect your child - at least that’s what it looked like to _you_.

"Careful what you promise - anything _means_ anything with me, kid." _Oh no. ._ Immediately you recoiled from his buckle and sort of huddled in on yourself, covering your chest with both arms and peering up at him nervously.

Dean watched you through hooded greens for a few more long seconds, while your mind raced to catch what might be on his.

He smirked. Then snorted.

“Yeah. Didn’t think so babe.” your face reddened severely at the confirmation that he was thinking what you guessed he was. Your eyes snapped to his hands when he moved them back to the belt, breath catching when his fingers deftly opened the buckle. 

_Jesus he’s gonna hit me anyway. . I thought I changed the vision. ._

It all flashed back vividly: thighs bloody, pain all over, crushing grief. . Yeah, that was enough to send you scrambling away from him, sheet forgotten.

“Oh come on now, I thought we were past this. .” Dean groaned, throwing his head back to look at the sky for a second before pursuing you again. It took about five seconds flat for the man to waltz up, _kick_ you in the ribs hard enough to flip you to your belly, and drop one knee down to the small of your back to keep you still.

It all fucking _hurt_.

“ _Ahhh_! N -no don't hit me with that!” you screeched, writhing beneath him as he took up each arm and pulled them behind your back jarringly, “ _Ow_! Dean stop it - let me _go_!”

“Oh yeah,  _alright_.” he mocked, proceeding to loop the belt around your hands and wrap the length over and over. . restraining them solidly behind your back. _At least he isn’t beating me. ._

However you weren’t sure that you would like the alternative that much either, because there you were, immobile and naked beneath an angry Knight of Hell. And he’d made it pretty clear that sex wasn’t off the table for him.

So you cried.

You sobbed and whimpered, all while Dean lifted your limp body from the ground and took you up and over his shoulder,

“Up you go,” he huffed, and then softly muttered something that sounded like “Relax.” but you couldn’t be sure over your weeping. You carried on with your loud anguished tears all the way back to the cabin as you watched your abandoned white sheet get swallowed up by the dark.

When a particularly racking sob jarred his walking rhythm, he growled over his shoulder, “Would you just shut the fuck up already?”

You had your thighs squeezed together, totally uncomfortable with all of the contact Dean had against your bare skin - his jacket was scraping at your breasts and his arm was clamped down over your thighs just below your ass.

Not to mention when he spoke to you, he turned his head so that his breath burrowed into the small space between your rigid hip and his strong shoulder, warming you up a little too low on your waist to feel comforting.

After what felt like a lifetime, your body was jostled with Dean’s rather giddy hopping up the steps.  He took up whistling an unfamiliar tune as he waltzed into the cabin, not stopping until he was directly in the center of it beside the still-crackling wood stove.

A tearful hiccup made you bounce. Every threat Dean had ever made to you or your unborn child was playing in your head like some kind of fucked up mixtape,

“Still cryin’, huh?” Dean sighed, relaxing his shoulders noticeably, but still holding you tight.

“You - you,” oh damn your voice was wrecked, “you said the only reason you’d hurt me or the baby w-was if Sam came for me.” thinking of Sam hurt. You wanted him there with you, telling you that everything would be alright. 

Needed to stare into his big brown eyes until all of your problems didn’t seem so scary. . you just needed _Sam_. 

“That’s right.” Dean agreed boredly, his cavalier attitude made you sob once in frustration.

“S-so what are you gonna make me do?” the question came out as almost a yell, and Dean stiffened under you in what you thought was anger, “I’m sorry.” it was an immediate whimper.

He groaned, “Alright princess. .” with that sentiment, he bent forward slightly and lowered you from his shoulder with a hand on each hip. He didn’t take them away when your feet touched the ground, or when he straightened back up to look at you, it was like he was worried you might fall. 

The desire to cover your breasts was strong, but the belt binding your arms behind your back made it impossible. All you could do was blush furiously. You reddened further when his sharp greens glanced down at the lingering dried blood all over your legs. 

“Now tell me,” he started, waiting until you looked up at him, “what’s got you all wound up?” 

“I. . .” you started tremulously, wishing he would just let go of your hips and give you clothes, “I had this dream - this nightmare. .” 

He nodded imploringly, but still had this permanent look of detachment about his features, “The one that you thought might be a vision?” he wasn’t doing this because he cared. He wanted answers. 

You swallowed, unnerved by his cool, unemotional exterior.

“Y-yes.”

“Quit stuttering.” he snapped, “It’s fucking annoying.” just like that the trembling started up again. You fidgeted with the belt.

“I - I dreamt that I was walking out the door to look for you,” you still wouldn’t admit it was an escape attempt, “and you appeared behind me, j-just like what _really_ happened only. .” you looked up at him pleadingly, wondering if you should really be telling him all of this. 

_ It might give him ideas. _

“ _Only_. . .?” he prompted, 

“O-only -”

“If you stutter one more time. .” he closed his eyes and picked one hand up to point sternly at you. His nostrils flared in irritation. “One more time, and I swear I’m gonna beat the shit outta ya. Got me?” y ou whimpered, blinking up at him from a foot lower, hoping to God that it was an empty threat. “Go on, tell me what happened in the dream.” 

Taking a deep breath you tried, 

“I never turned around in the dream. You came up behind me and accused me of trying escape and called me your. . um. . your _prize_.” you winced a little but Dean didn’t even blink. “Then you told me that you hate being lied to, and threw me to the floor. . I swear I could feel _everything_ \- it felt so real.” 

He was nodding thoughtfully,

“Then what?” now this was the part that you didn’t want to tell him, because there was still a very good chance he would use it against you. Seeing as there was no way you’d get away with hiding the truth, you just closed your eyes and said it in one go,

“You took off your belt - said that bad girls g-get beat - and started whipping me w-with it,” a tear trickled out at the memory, “it hurt so bad. . you hit me with it un-until. . until I started to bleed again. Until my baby d-died - I thought that’s what was g-gonna happen, that it might have been a vision, so I ran away when you appeared behind me. It was all too familiar.” 

When you opened your eyes Dean was staring at you with a soft expression that he quickly hid behind narrowed eyes and a set jaw.

“That all?” he asked. _ ‘That all’?! Isn’t it enough?? _

“Y-yes.” With a grunt, Dean shifted his weight to one foot and look down on you harshly, 

“Well, I’ll tell ya, you’re really trying to fulfill the prophecy sweetheart.” then a smirk graced his dark features, “With all that stuttering.” it took you a full minute to realize that he was kidding, and when you did, the amount of air you let out of your mouth probably blew the grass flat outside. 

Dean took your arm and led you to a wooden rocking chair - it had seen better days - and coaxed you to sit down. It was difficult with your arms restrained but you managed,

“Can you untie me please?” you watched him, trying to ignore how small he made you feel while he towered over your chair. He shook his head once, pushing his lips out in a silent ‘ _no_ ’. 

“That can be your punishment for running. . and slapping me. You don't get your arms back until you can play nicely with them.” you’d take it - you’d be a fool not to. Dean arched his back and grabbed the cuffs of his jacket to slide it from his shoulders,

“So what happens now?” it wasn’t lost on you that the former hunter hadn’t made any effort to reassure you of your safety after your confession. 

Instead of answering, he brought the big army green jacket around and spread it out wide before bending to drape it over you - he even took the time to tuck it around behind your back. 

Dean’s lingering body warmth within the fabric made you shiver, and you dipped your chin beneath the collar, realizing just how cold you were. The flannel clad demon stood watching you for a moment before seeming to snap to a decision. 

You yelped when he gripped the arm of the rocking chair to drag it across the room, but he was only positioning you beside the woodstove. To warm you up by the fire. _Oh_. .

“You hungry?” he grumbled, turning his back on you to handle something on the makeshift table/bed out of your view.

“Um. . _yes_?” you whispered truthfully, hoping that this wasn’t a game. Dean nodded, and you could hear some sort of metal clinking happening with whatever he was fiddling. 

When he turned back to face you, you fully expected him to be holding some kind of weapon or torture device, so when it was only a metal mug with a spoon inside and a bottle of water, you were lost.

“I was bringing you food when I found you by the door.” he shrugged, pulling up another chair to sit in front of you, “Must’ve missed it earlier. Fear can do that to a person. . make them miss things.”

“Oh. .” you whispered, feeling a little meek at the realization that Dean wasn’t planning on hurting you at all earlier. He was just going to feed you. The big man sat heavily in the chair, his mannerisms appearing more gruff for some reason - maybe because doing something nice made him uncomfortable.

He cleared his throat and glanced at you fleetingly, “Open.” 

With a red face you obeyed, watching him dig around the mug and come up with a mess of rice and beans heaped up on the spoon. It was hard to look at him when he brought the food to your lips, but you managed to hold his eyes with the hopes that he might find some kind of caring feeling toward you in that demonized soul of his. 

The food was bland, but it was better than nothing.  At least it got rid of the hunger cramps in your belly. 

Spoonful after spoonful was gently given to you, and not once did either of you speak. 

It was quiet, and not just in terms of sound - there was no aggression from either one of you, no harsh threatening words, no hint of degradation. . for once it was just. . _quiet_.

Dean set the mug down once every last bean and grain of rice had been eaten, and picked up the water to unscrew the cap. Again, without words, he brought it to your lips and tilted it as you drank. 

Cool water rushed down your sore throat and washed through your aching insides. 

It was all you could do not to moan - but with sneaky water droplets trickling down your chin and neck, a moan might give a man naughty thoughts. . and you couldn’t have that. 

You did however grunt softly when you ran out of air to drink, and Dean took away the bottle with a smirk, letting it hang between his knees where he rested both arms.  There was a beat where he just watched you like that, all hunched forward in his chair, like a kid waiting for an animal at the zoo to do something cool.

“Thank you.” you murmured finally. He nodded once, blinking at you. “I. . I don’t even know why I care about this baby.” the whispered admission surprised you, Dean however didn’t react. You continued,

“I mean it was a stupid mistake, a one night stand, I just wasn’t careful. And now. . as if a _normal_ baby wouldn’t ruin my life - or _change_ it I guess - the thing has to be a fucking prophet? It can’t even be just a normal baby?” 

Again, no answer from the ever-watching man. “You know something? Your brother didn’t even really give me a choice in this. He knocked me out in a back alley and kidnapped me - took me away from my life so that he could use me to find you and cure you. Like I could even help with any of that, I mean, look where it got me.” you swallowed back frustration, “Held hostage by _The_ Dean Winchester. Hand fed beans and rice by a _demon_.” 

You scoffed, shaking your head, “You know something else?” he blinked, now sporting an undeniable trace of humor in his eyes, “Most women, when they find out they’re pregnant, get to walk hand in hand with their significant other into fucking _Gymboree_ to pick out outfits and a crib. .” now there was some wetness in your (e/c)’s.

You whispered, “Not me. . I get to beg for my life and tiptoe around a Hell spawn until Sam, the sexy beautiful man that he is, finally comes to rescue me - but you know what? This isn't a fairy tale. I’m probably just gonna end up dying here. Mommy _and_ baby.”

That made a tear fall. You sniveled and reached up to wipe it, only to touch a big rough hand instead. Dean’s finger touched your cheek, brushing your single tear away so gently that you barely even felt it. 

“I can’t believe this is happening to me. .” you breathed, watching your captor with wide guarded eyes.

The big man quietly rose from his chair, the glow of the crackling fire casting a warm orange hue over his being.

Almost holding your breath, you waited for him to speak, because the way he was looking down at you made it seem like if he spoke, whatever he said would offer solace. Comfort. 

And you needed that so bad. 

So. Bad.

At the last second though, he broke eye contact and blinked a few times, licking his lips before clearing his throat roughly,

“We gotta do somethin’ about all that shit covering your thighs. . It’s disgusting.” your heart dropped, and with that loving declaration, you were left alone in your rocking chair. 

Dean didn’t even spare another glance as he walked out on you.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and suggestions are always welcome here :) Love to hear from you all!
> 
>  
> 
> Come say howdy on Twitter @DirtyMind_Girl if you so desire <3 Love always~


	5. I'll Wake You Up For Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A not-so-great-plan backfires on you. Big time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This longer chapter takes a dark turn. . but we finally hear from Sam :) Thanks for sticking with me lovelies, I've been really busy otherwise but I'm so glad to update this - more on the way for my other stories to finish them up - and then some new ones I've got ready for you! <3
> 
> TRIGGERS - I'm tagging this chapter for rape/non-con here in the notes so if you have trouble with that please please proceed with caution - mental abuse/physical abuse is also evident in this chapter. It get's pretty dark loves.
> 
> ~Enjoy!~

Dean left you in turmoil.

There was nothing about your state of mind that was balanced, and you still weren’t even sure that you were gonna make it out of this mess alive.

After all, even when he seemed soft for a moment, Dean met your heartfelt confession to him with a less than understanding demeanor. Then he marched out of the cabin like he was on a mission - leaving you bound and naked, save for his jacket draped over you, in the rocking chair by the fire.

At least he had fed you, that was a _huge_ plus.

You were beginning to feel weak and drowsy before the nourishment, and near freezing to death before the fire. So it was clear that Dean didn’t want you dead _yet_ at least. . but with your escape stunt you were surprised that the only markings you got were from the rocky ground.

Well _and_ a kick to the ribs, and a knee to the spine - but hey, other than sore shoulders from the awkward angle of his bondage, and a few aching bruises here and there, you were fine. Although you were starting to smell yourself from the near miscarriage the day before.

Dean was right, it was disgusting.

_Why hasn’t he killed me?_ You wondered that mostly because he could’ve killed you and your baby, and just continued to lie to Sam that you were alive - he wouldn’t have to deal with your shit, and he would get what he wanted out of you in the end.

So maybe there was a part of him that cared. . _could demons care?_ It sure seemed like it for a few fleeting seconds at a time during this whole ordeal. After all it was clear that he wanted to fuck you. He hadn’t exactly said that he wouldn’t yet either. You shivered.

The thought of letting a man like Dean bed you was nerve wracking to say the least. But feelings could be used to your advantage. . you knew that through your not-so-bright past. Men were at their weakest when they were lusting, or caring after all.

It was a vulnerability in humans that could be capitalized on if you were smart enough. The only problem was that Dean wasn’t human, and you weren’t sure he gave a shit about you - about anything for that matter.

Shifting in the chair feeling sorry for yourself, you were so focused on getting nearer to the fire and finding warmth that a sudden deafening **BOOM** startled you so badly, you almost tipped the chair over.

_What the hell was that..? What the HELL WAS THAT?!!_

“ _Dean_?” you called nervously. The sound was still echoing over the rolling hills of the countryside, you could hear it fading. “De -” **BOOM**! You jumped again.

_A. . a gunshot? Was that a gunshot? Oh God, oh God. ._ You were frozen in the chair, curled up awkwardly with the jacket still offering warmth. Part of you wanted to call out to him again, but now you were afraid to. You sure as hell didn’t want him bringing a _gun_ back in here with him.

Maybe he was just blowing off steam or something. **BOOM**! That time you yelped, frightened at the nearness of the shot. The quiet afterward was more deafening than the sound though and it was so lengthy that when clamorous rustling took up on the side of the failing building you gasped.

_What is he doing out there. . ?_

Clanking made you whimper worriedly and begin twisting your wrists around in the thick leather belt. There was no getting your hands out though, it was simply too tight. There was a roar outside, like a man lifting something very heavy, and you officially broke skin on your wrists with how hard you were working to free your wrists.

“ _Ahh_. .” you hissed, ceasing your struggles to lay sideways against the chair. Just outside of the doorway on the porch, a dim light flickered, illuminating the broken wood and splintering stairs in sort of an orange light.

Like a _fire_ maybe.

At first you thought that Dean was planning to burn you alive, but you heard him grumble “alright that should do it” followed by brushing of footsteps in the grass approaching the porch.

Undeniable dread pooled in your belly when you heard him grunt with the jump that it must've took him to get on the porch. _What did he shoot? What is that glow? What could he possibly be doing?_

The jacket Dean had given you was being held up by only your knees folding it to keep it from falling. Each hollow thud of his boot on the porch seemed to hammer your heart and stutter your breathing.

_Surely he wouldn't just kill me after all of this. . Right? I wish he would just speak more. ._

The demon himself rounded the corner and leaned up against the doorjamb, shotgun casually resting on his shoulder while his finger still lightly rested on the trigger. He kicked a lazy leg up over his other, and leveled you with an unreadable expression. . but he appeared very relaxed.

You swallowed, feeling like you shouldn’t move.

The corner of his mouth lifted in a knowing little smile, and his eyes glinted in this impish way that made worry and hope go hand in hand. Dean cleared his throat and shifted in the doorway,

“Don't look so scared baby, I'm just blowin' off a little steam, burnin' some gunpowder." he grinned, "Come on out sweetheart, I’ve got something you might like.” you didn’t move. Partly because if you stood, the jacket would fall and you’d once again be totally naked in front of a demon - which is something you never get used to - and partly because you were too afraid of what was out there to get up.

For fuck's sake it was becoming pretty obvious that whenever Dean told you that you'd like something, he meant exactly the opposite. Dean released a huge amount of air from his lungs,

“Jesus. .” he bounced the shotgun slightly and caught it in the middle so that he could stalk toward you while it swung barrel first. Your eyes were glued to the thing, but if Dean noticed he didn’t say anything. 

Two fingers beckoned you to stand when he stopped in front of you. “Come on get up, I’ll untie your hands.” you slowly tore your gazed away from the weapon and blinked up at him,

“But. . but the jacket. .” he only stared coolly, “I- I don’t want to be naked.” a beat passed where Dean just pierced you with his icy glare before abruptly snagging his jacket and pulling it off of you. “Hey - _no_!” you squeaked, curling your knees up and sinking down in the chair.

“Get up.” he ordered again.

“Give it back!” you cried, hating how he outright explored your skin with wandering eyes, “Stop looking at me!” he scoffed at that,

“Really? You’re this bothered about me _looking_ at you?” he straightened completely, “Maybe reminding yourself that I could be doing a lot more than just looking, would do you some good.”

You whimpered, “Dean -”  

“Things that are a little more. . hands on. Understand?” you suddenly felt very vulnerable,

“Yes, I understand.” you whispered, earning a sneer from the monster. "P-please don't." he ignored your plea, and snorted.

“Good.” he leaned down and braced his free hand on the arm of the rocking chair, before growling through his teeth, “Now stand.” you tried to find your voice, but in the end the word ‘ _okay_ ’ was only silently mouthed by you.

Trying to stay sideways while standing was difficult, but you really tried seeing as Dean wasn’t giving you much space to move, and you definitely didn’t want to give him a face full of chest on the way up. What saved you from possibly having a demon suck on your tits was the sudden rock song blaring from the front pocket of Dean’s red flannel.

“Son of a bitch,” he groaned, standing to dig it out. He glanced at the screen and smirked, gesturing with two fingers for you to stand, then swiped the screen and brought the phone to his ear,

“Sammy!” he mocked joy, “Caught me in the middle of a nice chat with your new fucktoy - prize pick by the way, you have no idea how hard it’s been to -” Sam cut him off, his voice stressed and unintelligible, but Dean’s face was falling to a deep frown.

His lip quirked up sardonically, “Unless you're ready to cut a deal, I don’t give a shit what you have to say. I’ve heard enough of your whiny bitchin’ to last a hundred lifetimes, so whatcha got Sammy boy? _Anything_?”

More muffled agitation. Dean glanced at you, “No.” he was firm, and Sam’s voice became more insistent. The big man before you growled, and finally thrust the phone out to you. Sam was still talking when you went to take it, but Dean stepped closer to grip your wrist and pin you with serious eyes,

“Only a minute, and if you say somethin’ I don’t like there will be pain.” you copied his slow nod and brought the phone to your ear, catching the tail end of Sam’s argument,

**_“-so just give her the goddamn phone Dean!”_ **

“Sam?” you swallowed, hating being impaled by an icy green stare,

Sam sounded urgent, ** _“_ _? Oh thank God, I was worried he’d killed you.”_**

“I don’t have much time,” you murmured, the sound of Sam’s voice bringing tears to your eyes. Just hearing him on the phone was giving you a strange sense of safety.

**_“Has he hurt you?”_ **

“Y-yes - but not bad. He’s just,” Dean’s stare was darkening, and your sentence finished in a whimper, “really scary.” Sam actually huffed a humorless laugh,

**_“Yeah, I’d expect nothing less.”_ ** and then he got down to business, **_“I’m not gonna waste time asking where you are cause I know he’s right there but I need you to listen to me.”_** he was so worried.

“Okay.” a tear trickled out, all you wanted was for the giant who owned this tenor voice to be standing in front of you. To be _holding_ you.

**“ _Okay_ ,”** he breathed, ** _“ , you’re gonna get out of this okay. I’m coming for you, me and Cas are working on a plan. Your job is to keep Dean happy until we can get to you - Dean won’t kill you, at least I don’t think so. . even as a demon there has to be some of my brother left in there and he would never do that. Try to channel him.”_** He was talking so fast, it was hard to keep up,

“How? God Sam please just -” you cut yourself off remembering who was watching, and covered your mouth.

**“?”** came Sam’s velvet concerned voice,

“I’m sorry, I’m just. . . I just really wish you were here,” Dean snorted and shook his head at that, “H-how do I um - _how_?” wow it was hard to talk about anything with Dean standing there. After a long heavy pause Sam answered,

**_“Do whatever he wants okay? Dean has never been one for defiance, and I’m betting that’s only elevated since he’s become a demon, do you understand? . . . Anything he asks, do it. Unless it’ll kill you.”_ **

“Okay. .” you whispered again, trying not to think of all of the things you couldn’t say no to.

**_“Are you alright?”_** he sounded strained,

“I’m naked.” you admitted, and another tear fell at the horrible groaning sound that came through the receiver. Dean snapped his fingers and rolled his eyes, “I-I have to go now Sam.” it was shrill. You didn’t want to lose his voice now when you needed it so much,

**“ _Okay_ ,”** he was miserable, **_“Okay, just. . remember what I told you. Don’t piss him off. Don’t fight with him. Please. I-I. . I can’t stop dreaming about you.”_** that brought you up short, and you blurted before Dean’s presence could stop you,

“I need you Sam.” and then the phone was jerked out of your hand by the demon wearing a sick smile, and the call was ended mercilessly. Dean pushed out his lips, pouting dramatically,

“Aw sweetie,” he purred like you were a puppy, “too bad we don’t got enough time for phone sex, huh?” shoving his phone back home, Dean grabbed your arm tight and jerked you with him toward the door, “Now let’s get this show on the road.” You tried for a deep steadying breath, ignoring the way your heart was hurting. Talking to Sam made you feel a _little_ better though.

Deep down you knew it was a false sense of security, but the idea of someone like Sam Winchester being on your side would give anyone a little confidence. No matter how foolish it was.

The feeling of Dean’s big hand on the small of your back, skin against skin, made your flesh crawl. Orange glow was still very much visible from the doorway he was moving you toward, and you wondered for the second time that night if he might burn you alive.

There wasn’t a thing you could do but walk with him as he guided you toward the unknown. What Sam had told you kept repeating in your head, maybe for insurance,

_'Dean won’t kill you, at least I don’t think so. . even as a demon there has to be some of my brother left in there and he would never do that. Try to channel him.'_ So you took some more deep breaths,

“Dean?” it was so quiet like a little girl asking her father if she was in trouble,

“Yeah sweetheart,” he answered as such.

You swallowed hard, “Where are we going?” he huffed a suppressed snort,

“Just right outside baby.” he probably knew that the constant pet names made you uncomfortable, that’s why he did it. He was also evading your question.

“What are we gonna do outside? It’s cold.” you wondered if Dean - the _real_ Dean - responded well to the nervous little girl routine that you were playing. He seemed like that from what your visions told you. A protector at heart.

Dean cleared his throat, and steered you through the door, “You’ll warm up soon enough, I said you’d like it.”

“But did you _mean_ that?” you squeaked when you got a load of what Dean was setting up outside. First off, there was a large fire which didn’t help your ‘burned alive’ theory.

Propped over the top of that was what appeared to be an old bed frame, the metal bars were hinting red at the heat of the licking flames. You balked, and Dean let you so you could study his work for a moment. Atop the old bed frame was a huge metal trough, stacked to high for you to see inside, but none the less nightmarish for a girl in your position.

“Like what ya see?” Dean grumbled and nudged his shotgun to lean up against the side of the cabin, never taking his other hand off of you naked body. The near freezing cold was forgotten.

“What is _that_?” your voice was soft yet choppy with the closing of your throat. Again putting pressure on your back, he tried to coax you forward with an easy reply of,

“Come on, I’ll show ya.” he wasn’t saying much at all, and that didn’t seem good. You dug your heels in.

“N-no.” but it wasn’t a statement as much as a plea. That was only reiterated in the way you turned toward him to clutch his steering arm. Dean shot you a look of surprise at first, green eyes clouded with what could have been concern, but of course he hardened almost immediately,

“Get the fuck movin’,” he wrapped you in close to his side and just started walking, dragging you along the way, “I don’t wanna keep this fire goin’ for long. It’ll draw attention from the highway.” splinters lodged into your feet as Dean towed you along,

“ _No_ Dean!” you squirmed, hating how you could feel him everywhere on your skin. Then you realized you weren’t following one of Sam’s dire rules,

_'Do whatever he wants okay? Dean has never been one for defiance, and I’m betting that’s only elevated since he’s become a demon, do you understand? . . . Anything he asks, do it. Unless it’ll kill you.'_ So you went limp and let him take you toward the fire,

“That’s it,” the demon praised, “Quit fighting me on every little thing and it’ll be a hell of a lot easier on you.” he paused on the edge of the porch, slid his hand to hold yours, and jumped into the grass below while you stood rigidly in place. Fully expecting him to jerk you bodily down with him, having him turn and hold his other arm out to you was surprising.

“Come on kid.” he nodded looking up at you imploringly. Timidly and _very_ nervously, you stepped up to the edge of the sagging porch and allowed your waist to touch his rough hands.

It was extremely hard to ignore the fact that Dean’s face was level with your bloodied thighs and womanhood - you doubted it went unnoticed by him either. The man's calloused fingers and palms scratched your soft skin, and you grabbed his shoulders to steady you as he firmly gripped your hips to smoothly lift you from the porch and down to the frozen grass.

A beat passed where you just stared at his chest, and shivered at the warmth of his big lingering hands resting on your hips in contrast to the night air. Your chest felt heavy.  _Something is coming. Something bad._

“Gonna let go of my shoulders there princess?” you jerked back immediately, making him chuckle while he released your waist.

“Are you gonna throw me in the fire?” you blurted tactlessly after being nudged forward again. Dean didn’t miss a beat,

“Yeah the beans and rice were to fatten you up, now I’m gonna boil you over and open flame and eat you.” it was like a fucked up singsong verse. When you didn’t respond he actually started laughing, abandoning you to grab a dirty towel from the ground, “I’m only playin’ sweetheart -”

He grunted, gripping the edge of the metal trough with the towel acting as an oven mitt of sorts. Dean pulled the big thing right off of the bed frame, sloshing near boiling water over the rim on the drop to the ground. 

When he turned back to you there was a genuine looking grin on his face, “It’s bath time.”

_I can’t say no. . what would be the point anyway? It’s not like I don’t need to wash the nastiness off of my skin._ So with a deep breath and twisting tummy, you stepped forward, earning a big nod from the oddly jovial demon.

Dean turned to head over to the Impala, and you could barely see him by the light of the fire slinging a duffle over his shoulder from the backseat.

There was something else on you mind, nagging and prodding away from the back. It was what the bath was going to lead to. This was only the pretext. You’d already thought about it and more or less decided earlier: you’d do whatever you needed to protect yourself and your baby. 

Anything to ensure getting out of this mess alive.

Dean’s voice broke through your thoughts, he was calling to you as he marched back over, duffle in tow, “Check that water, would ya?” and you tentatively stuck a finger in.  _Ah. . . sooo warm. ._. you shuddered, pleased that you would actually get a warm bath on such a chilly night. In fact now that you’d felt the hot water, the chilled condition of your skin was ever more apparent - you started bouncing up and down slightly.

“Cold?” Dean was back at your side again, hard expression in place. He always seemed angry.

“Y-yeah,” you chattered,

“Well get in then,” he gestured to the tub, and swung the big bag to the ground, “I’ve got shit for you to wash with or whatever, but don’t go gettin’ my soap all caked with that rotting pussy blood alright? I’ll be pissed and I’ll make you eat it.” you wondered if that was a joke. _Better not test it._

The water, unlike your company, was heavenly.

Every little cell quaked happily as one leg after the other went in, your chest shuddered as you lowered your aching body into the deep trough. Steam caressed your marked up face and random places along your skin burned - cuts and scrapes registering the hot water. It hurt, but felt so wonderful at the same time.

“You keep makin’ noises like that and we’re gonna have a problem sister.” at that deep rough statement your drooping eyes snapped open to find Dean standing stiffly by, dark eyes zeroed on your submerged body.

You gulped.

“Sorry.” then in an effort to change the subject, “Can I have the soap? Please?” it was already in his hand because he just tossed it into the water carelessly and stalked off into the cabin.

For a moment you thought about trying to run again, but the water was so warm and surely running naked soaked in these temperatures would kill you quicker than Dean would. He probably knew that. So instead you used his sudden absence to begin washing yourself, grateful to not have an audience. A black eyed unstable audience.

Certain places were more sore than others. Cuts and bruises from Dean’s rough handling made you wince more than a few times, but you bared down on your bloody thighs first, scrubbing and sloughing furiously. The soap smelled like spicy man. . forests and timber. _Dean_.

It came as a certain satisfaction to watch the water become cloudy with grime, being clean would help your entire mindset no doubt, so you washed thoroughly everywhere right down to in between your toes. Everywhere except your back. You couldn’t reach but you could feel solid dirt back there from your earlier wrestling match in the field.

“About done sweetcheeks?” your captor clipped out of nowhere, making you jump. Again he looked angry as he hopped off of the porch,

“Uh yeah,” you lied, seeing his gaze snap to your dirty back in the blink of an eye,

"You got some shit on your back," he pointed, and you didn't move to get it, "can't reach it?" he asked with an evil sneer. Instead of answering verbally, you just shook your head, "Well then let me get it, we don't have all damn night." he didn't even wait for permission, just crowded right in and gripped your shoulder roughly.

Whimpers and frightened gasps fell out of your mouth as the demon worked, he was not being gentle by any means, and when that hand on your shoulder slipped down across your collar bone to casually grope your breast, you screamed.

_Oh no. ._

"D-don't!" even when you hunched forward to get away, Dean squeezed and kneeded with his whole hand, pinching your nipple between his fingers. You sobbed in panic, "Stop it!"  

Dark low laughter rumbled near your ear. Dean kept one strong hand on your opposite shoulder to hold you close, while he continued to massage your tender chest with a grip bordering on painful.

“ _Ow_! Ow please -”

“Can it.” he snarled, squeezing your breast and holding the pressure while he spoke. “You really think I haven’t noticed you skipping around in your birthday suit? That I wasn’t gonna do anything about it? Huh?” you tried your best to curl away from him toward the far edge of the tub. His hand was really starting to hurt, and you weren’t sure he was gonna let go soon.

“ _D-Dean_ ,” wow your voice was shrill, “p-please let go. You’re _h_ - _hurting_ me.” to your surprise his hold loosened a fraction. The big man shifted, dropping to one knee beside the bath.

A moment passed where you were just shaking in the bath water while he seemed to be lost in thought, his lips were pursed and he was absently dragging his thumb over your hardening nipple. It was all you could do not to look at him, how he was smiling softly when he gave your nipple a yelp-worthy pinch.

He hummed, “I gotta tell ya it’s been awhile since I’ve gotten any action. Oh, say a whole two days, and a man like me well. . we need it. Like air. You understandin’ me sweetheart?” it was to the point where your tremors were causing the water to ripple.

Yes you understood him completely. And something deep inside told you that it was going to happen, that it had to.

“Hey,” he growled through his teeth, gripping the side of your neck with his right hand, “I asked you a question princess.”

“I - I understand b-but -”

“But what girl?” you felt tears coming, and just closed your eyes to dam them back. Dean shifted in and pulled your head close enough to speak directly in your ear, “I’m gonna fuck you , fuck you out here in the dark. I’ll pull you outta this bathwater right now and fuck you on top of the frozen grass, so tell me baby, what do you think about that?”

Finally, _finally_ you let yourself sob. He didn’t seem fazed, in fact there was a smile in his voice now, “You scared? Knowin’ that I could do anything I wanted, _anything_ , and you wouldn’t be able to stop me? I bet it’s scary, huh. You’re helpless.”

It was hurting your chest to cry so hard, and your were jerking in his grip with the beat of your sobs. Sam had told you that you couldn’t tell Dean no. What was worse was that it was clear how much Dean _wanted_ you to.

That demonized soul was begging you to say no so that he could force you, he wanted you scared, crying, and in pain. So, with terror in the forefront of your mind, you made the Hail Mary of all plays.

“O-okay -” it was cut off with more loud tears, but Dean straightened a little,

“What?” his voice was flat,

You repeated, “Okay.” _God help me._ “Do it.”

Dean squinted, taking his hand back from your chest. He stood up. You were still a weeping mess. “You. . _want_ me to?”

“Yes.” _lie_. He growled low,

“Then why are you crying about it?” _Why do you care all of a sudden?!_

“Be-because I shouldn’t want it.” because you _didn’t_ want it. _Please let this work, please let this work. ._ His jacket hit the ground. _Oh no_.

“Alright then. Get out.” your heart dropped. You had been hoping that Dean wouldn’t want it if you just gave it to him, but it looked like he didn’t really care either way. . However maybe this way there would be less pain.

Maybe this could still be an advantage. Other men you fucked became attached and developed feelings, it couldn’t be too different with Dean right? It might make him see you in a different light - might coax him to show some mercy.

If you were being honest with yourself, this plan had been rolling around in your mind since Dean had shown any kind of attraction to you. The only difference was that you were just hoping it would happen if he really ended up raping you - not after you’d _offered_ it to him.

There was no way you could take it back now though. . something told you that demon Dean wouldn’t treat a cock tease very well.

So swallowing every instinct you had, you rose up out of the steaming water, wincing at the frosty bite in the air. For a moment you only stood knee deep in the tub like that hugging yourself.

“Well come on.” Dean impatiently swept his hand out in an arch, like he was prompting you into a ballroom.  _ Wow I wish that’s what he was doing. _ Sniveling yet trying to hold it together, you slowly stepped out of the bath water and onto the frosted grass. 

The cold wasn’t the only reason you were shivering. Just as soon as both feet touched the ground, Dean seized you, drawing out a frightened scream, and tugged your nude form into him. Not for the first time, the sheer difference in size made you feel small and vulnerable, your head barely reached the center of his chest. 

There wasn’t much time to linger on that though, because a big hand fisted the roots of your (h/c) hair and jerked your face upward. You squeezed both eyes shut tight and not a second later warm full lips smashed down into yours, the overbearing pressure brought more tears to your eyes and you hiccuped fearfully on his mouth. 

The strong demon growled in response and jerked your head back to break the kiss, the pain had you holding back another scream before he threw you to the ground. Teeth chattering from the cold and fear, you laid frozen on your belly crying and waiting for him to just crowd over you and force himself inside, but instead a deafening crash had you covering your head and crying out in surprise.

Uproarious hissing from the fire and the overwhelming scent of burnt coals confused you for a moment, but when the field was bathed in natural darkness it was clear what Dean had done.

Again by your hair, you were yanked up off of the ground screeching and wailing, and maneuvered to face the overturned tub and now-drenched fire.

“W-wait -” you were sobbing, grasping at his hurtful hand and trying your best not to struggle too much. “Dean _p-please_ don’t hurt me!” it was desperate raw and shrill, your fear was so intense it was beginning to make your body shut down.

“Shut up.” he snarled, lifting you by your scalp and one arm to throw you onto the overturned trough. Naturally gripping the edge of the warm metal, he had you laying limp over the tub with your legs hanging off the side. In perfect position. The red hot coals from the dying fire were warming the cold tears on your cheek, while you listened to your attacker unfasten his belt and unzip his jeans. 

This was actually about to happen. 

So you tried begging again,

“D-Dean please - oh _God_ -” it was hard to speak through such awful impending doom, “p-please just be - oh _God_ p-please just be gentle. .” those big hands gripped your hips again, adjusting you bodily over the giant trough despite whimpers and whines.

He finally spoke, “You said you wanted it?” _NO NO NO!_ Defeated and terrified you lied again quietly,

“Y-yes.” Dean took you at your word and dropped to his knees behind you. 

“Well then I’m gonna give it to ya.” the first touch of rough fingers on your quivering sex made you shriek, but he gave no pause, instead he dipped a thick digit inside and felt around. The feeling made you bite your lip so hard you tasted blood. . you would _not_ be enjoying this. 

As if to affirm that theory, Dean mused,

“Hmmm, dry as a bone.” when he withdrew you yelped at the suddenness, but he just shrugged, “Not my problem I guess. Come, don't come. . I don't care, just brace yourself doll.” and without preamble, his large blunt tip was greeting your unprepared entrance. With a squeak, you tensed for a quick brutal entrance, but Dean’s voice rumbled through the night.

It was thick and rough with need,

“Why do you want it sweetheart?” you gulped. Now this wasn’t a yes or no question, and telling him what he wanted to hear would go against everything you believed in. Back out now, you can back out now. . but you knew that was impossible, he wouldn’t hear of it. So you closed your eyes and lied through your teeth,

“I-I’ve wanted you ever since the bar, it wasn’t all an act in there.” you sucked in a huge breath, “Please give me it Dean, I-I need to feel you inside of me - wanted to ever since we got here. . ever since you first laid me down on that bed!” the volume of your voice increased as he applied pressure, and your words were drowning in pained sobs.

The sizable tip breached your opening, eliciting a grunt and hiss from your lips.

“ _Mmmm_! I w-wanted you when you hand fed me - _Aaahhh_! - when you chased me through the f-field!” you whole body was screaming at this point. Dean was stretching you over him slowly but ruthlessly, filling you more than you ever had been filled before, and you were  _ not  _ ready for him.

“Fuckin’ knew it.” he purred, “Fuckin’ knew you were a twisted little slut. You wanna fuck a demon baby?” he pumped the rest of himself into you in one quick thrust,

“AHH!” you gripped the edge of the trough and gritted your teeth, there was just too much of him. There was so much pain already, and you couldn’t force the word ' _yes_ ' out of your mouth. So you settled with, “ _Pleeeaase_!” 

Dean huddled over you close, panting hard at the tightness of you, “Then I’m gonna show you what it feels like to fuck a demon.” he pulled out to the tip and slammed back in hard enough to knock the tub forward a little. 

Horrible stinging pain crashed through your body, causing you to unleash an echoing scream across the nighttime plains. There was no time to get your bearings, because again he pulled out and tore back in, setting a brutal pace to fuck you with. 

Maybe this would kill you. Dean’s impressive member speared into you over and over, fucking you while you screamed, sobbed, and even _struggled_ a little - the pain was so real that it was beginning to shut your body down.  Black spots danced in your vision, blurring the dying red coals in front of you. 

Then out of nowhere, images of Sam popped into your head, maybe your minds way of distracting from the bruises forming from the repeated impact of the tub, or the animalistic sounds Dean was making from behind you, or perhaps the painful instructions that seemed as if they would never end. 

Nevertheless you were seeing Sam. His smile, his eyes. . Hell you could almost hear his Mississippi deep chuckle. . could almost pretend that Dean’s hurtful hands were his. That maybe this was all just a bad dream. 

Of course the demon currently claiming you, knocked you right out of your comforting illusions when his thrusts became increasingly more aggressive. 

“Ahh - aahh!” you screamed, angling your hips down to try and take away some leverage. The way he was bottoming out was torture. “ _Deeeaan_. . .” you whined, a sound that could be mistaken for pleasure,

“That’s right baby, scream for me.” he was close. Ramming into your clenched sex with new vigor, while you just wished that your internal muscles would stop trying to fight him. It was only making it worse. “Sh-shit -” he clipped, fingers squeezing your waist so tightly that you saw stars. The noises you were making sounded inhuman. 

Then finally, finally he roared the magic word, “ _F-fuuck_!” and with that rough guttural cry, the brutal man came, stuttering his hips and letting out a groan that made your stomach roll. 

Sickly warmth in your lower belly made your head spin with sudden nausea, and for a frightful moment you thought you might be sick over the front of the barrel.

Breath was visible in the freezing air, still coming out in shuddering gasps. His fingers were still locked around your hips, grip mean and bruising, and you. . you were rigid. Tense with Dean’s thickness still lodged inside of you, and trembling violently with the effort it tolled to even hold yourself up on the warm metal.

_My God. . I’ve just been raped._

But _had_ you?

The stinging pain between your thighs said so. The hidden tears cascading down your cheeks said so. The new batch of bruises formed from Dean’s touch said so. And your completely distraught spirit _screamed_ so. . but. . your _actions_ , well they weren’t as clear.

Your protests: relatively non-existent. Your consent: watery but present. Dean had to have known though. He _had_ to.

“Jesus Christ girl,” finally his fingers let up, and his softening member was drug from your shocked tunnel surprisingly gently, “that’s some kinda pussy you got. Too bad it’ll be ruined in 9 months.” when he released your hips, your lower body completely collapsed with a little grunt from your bitten lips. In a lame attempt to hide, you turned your face into your elbow up against the trough,

“It doesn’t stay permanently loose,” you muttered, monotone, unsure why you even bothered. It seemed as though your mouth was moving on it's own, “it bounces back a few weeks after birth.” God you were exhausted. . and in pain. Pangs of deep ache inside of your sex attested to how rough Dean really was.

He gave an offbeat chuckle, you could practically see the furrow of his brow. “Alright. . whatever you say sweetheart.” the way you were curled up and shying away from him on the ground probably didn’t look to good, but not a cell within you had the energy to keep up your lie.

Sex with Dean - _demon_ Dean - was not something you would have ever done willingly. He had to know that. So there was no point in pretending that you were satisfied with being roughed up in such a personal way.

“Can I, um. .” you started, voice high and throat closing with miserable tears. Crunching told you that Dean moved closer to hear, “Can I go _home_ now?” Yeah you meant _home_ home, not back to Sam or his Bunker, but _home_. Where there were no monsters.

Dean sighed, a word riding on the breath that may have been _‘shit’_ . _Oh no please don’t be mad. ._

When you felt familiar rough fingers on your battered arm, you couldn’t help but whimper, thinking he would finally just beat to death you for lying to him. For pretending you wanted it even after he’d asked.

Instead all you got was a helping hand from the still steaming ground, and a strong arm to steady you when you wobbled on jellied legs. Keeping your (e/c) eyes locked on the ground, you refused to look at him. He leaned down close and murmured to you,

“Go ahead and clean yourself up, I’m gonna take some new blankets inside for ya.” _What?_ This was a change to say the least. Dean detached slowly, it gave you a chance to regain balance.

Sort of dumbstruck and frozen, you watched him walk to the Impala, rummage around, and then tote an armful of sheets and a blanket from the backseat of his ride. _Did. . could it have worked? Just like that. .? No. . Yes. .?_

By the time he’d come back out, you had wobbled unsteadily to the porch, gripping at the edge to catch your breath. Everything was a daze really. Next thing you knew, his clothed chest was pressed up against the side of your face, there was a weightless sensation, and then softness against your back. The bed. . There was a brightness that you barely registered as the wood stove in it's place nearby.

Dean's voice was fuzzy in your ears, “Found a couple blankets in the car, they’re scratchy so I’ll give ya my jacket again. .” weight was pressing on you, followed by Dean’s masculine scent. “. . and you won’t itch.”

More weight was added, the blankets you realized, and it was clear how frigid you were from so much time outside. It took every ounce of energy to roll to your side and curl up, but as soon as you did the comforting cloak of darkness took you under with tears still leaking out and all.

_“. . . I’m sorry sweetheart. . .”_

**~~**

Especially loud crackling in the wood stove woke you up.

The place was still dark, outside still black, so you concluded that you’d only been out for a couple hours at the most. You captor was slumped over in that rickety rocking chair by the fire, his chest rising and falling steadily in slumber, and you watched him.  _Studied_ him really.

His eyelids were lightly closed and his face was relaxed, none of the angry lines or condescending traits were visible anymore. Dean just looked. . like a _man_. A normal, sleeping man. Clearly he was dreaming, his index finger was twitching on his knee, probably translating to a more drastic movement in dreamscape.

Then his eyelids crinkled, and his brow slightly furrowed.

You watched his stubbled throat jump with a swallow, and finally the big man grunted sharply yet softly. A nightmare. This ruthless beast of a demon was having a nightmare and - _was that a whimper? No. ._ you couldn’t imagine Dean even being capable of that noise but - _Holy shit there it was again._

_Whimpering._

Panging in your chest was troubling. _I shouldn’t feel bad for this thing. . he kidnapped me and raped me - not to mention all of the bruises I have from everything else he’s done. Fuck him. Let him die in his dream._

However even as you thought, you knew deep down that you’d never be able to call what Dean did rape. You’d given it to him. In fact, that very deep rough voice of his had asked you multiple times if you wanted it, hell, he even asked you _why_. _Don't think about it, don't think about it. ._

Sex served it’s purpose though: Dean was being kind. Developing some type of feelings for you it seemed. It was only natural after all. You supposed, if you were being totally honest with yourself, being so personal with the man had settled a soft spot for him inside. Even if the entire experience had been less than enjoyable, for you. You had a heinously sore womanhood and deep bruises to attest to that.

_Fucking hormones. Chill._

Just as your wandering eyes began drooping again, a little square lit up in Dean’s front pocket of his flannel. _A cell phone._

Again Dean twitched and grunted, sleeping deep enough that the text vibration didn’t even phase him. . and it gave you an idea. _No, no I shouldn’t. But what if I can call Sam?? Or text him?_ _It would be stupid not to try right? Or would it be stupid TO try?_

While your angel and demon yelled at each other across your shoulders, you very gingerly and very quietly, peeled back the scratchy army blanket and slid your bare feet to the floor. Momentarily abandoning Dean’s jacket, you collected as much composure as you could while adjusting his over-sized flannel, ensuring it was settled back down to the middle of your thighs.

God, everything hurt. Right down to the splinters still embedded in your feet. _Don't think about it, don't think about it. ._

Seeking security, you folded your arms over your chest and began to tiptoe toward the resting monster in slow motion. All the while telling yourself that if you didn’t exhaust all possible escape prospects, you’d never forgive yourself.

By the time you reached Dean, all limp in his chair, you were trembling with anticipation and anxiety. Every nerve inside of you was expecting him at any moment to snap a big hand around your wrist and break it.

When your fingertips reached his shirt pocket, you hesitated, flicking your gaze between the cell phone and his face. You were so close that you could hear his soft little breaths coming through his nose, and you could smell him too - firewood, gunpowder, and that green soap he washed you with.

_Okay come on, just reach in and take it, breathe. . breathe. . why can’t I breathe?_ Swallowing thickly, you glanced at Dean’s closed eyes one last time and dipped your fingers into his front pocket with a feather touch. He didn’t stir.

Not even when you began sliding the metallic square out centimeter by painstaking centimeter. Still you had not taken a breath. Only when the phone completely cleared the lip of his pocket did you allow a silent, yet giant, breath of relief to expel from your lungs.

Pressing the home key lit the screen up like the sun, but it was easy to ignore the pain in your corneas when a text message from Sam along with 3 missed calls from him in the center of the screen. All the text said was one word:

**-Fine.-**

You quickly swiped right on the message, forgetting the sleeping demon directly in front of you in your mission to figure out just what Sam thought was ‘ _fine_ ’, and the Winchester’s conversation came up on the screen. Dean had sent a lot of messages, you squinted to read:

**-Thought I should let my bro know that I approve of his little girlfriend. She’s a nice fuck.-** your eyes welled, and you brought a hand to your mouth. _No, I didn’t want Sam to know. ._

**-You son of a bitch you didn’t-**

**-I did.-** No response. **-I want the Blade. You get it. Tomorrow we meet and exchange.-** again there was no response from Sam **-Otherwise she’s dead and I’ll have a little more fun first.-** and then a second after that **-I want the Blade Sam. Tomorrow.-** only then did Sam respond and it was that simple text.

**-Fine.-**

“Any juicy gossip in there kid?” his deep voice struck instant fear into your heart. You’d been caught. To top it off, the cell phone was fumbled and dropped to the hardwood floor at his feet.  _Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit shit shit!_

Dean kept his eyes on you from his seat though, they were narrowed, and you hated yourself for wasting all of that softness you’d gained from letting him _have_ you for something as stupid as reading a text message.

The idea that enduring a rough fuck by a Knight of Hell was meaningless now, actually deflated you enough to drop you to your knees, where you cupped your face in your hands. Dean didn’t act surprised in the slightest,

“What’d ya read there?” you whimpered, shaking your head. _God I'm such an idiot._ Maybe Dean was only putting on bravado for his brother, but honestly you'd be a fool to think what happened outside had changed him at all. Demons are evil after all.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed shakily, flinching at a rough snort from the utterly relaxed demon,

“That’s weird. . I don’t think I sent _that_ text to anyone.” a beat of silence passed between you where you still wouldn’t look at him. Dean groaned as he sat up in the chair, his hands gripped the tops of your arms, and he pulled you up from the ground as he stood,

“Please don’t be mad at me. .” you whispered, squeezing your eyes closed when he pried your trembling hands from your face.

“Look at me.” he murmured, “Open your eyes sweetheart.”

His surprisingly gentle voice coaxed you to do just that, and when you did the softness of his features surprised you. His eyes were even green.

“Did ya find the messages to Sam?” he asked, bending forward drastically so he could look into your eyes. He was still cradling your trembling hands with his steady warm ones.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, scared.

“No no,” he scolded gently, “answer me.” you were so confused by him. And _afraid_. It was really hard to focus.

“Yes.” you managed, “Did you mean it? Th-the part about letting me go?” a small smile graced his pretty face, but he didn’t answer you.

It left you wondering whether he was actually gonna let you live or not - and unless you’ve been in that situation, where your life relies on a psychopath’s mercy, there is no way to understand how terrifying it is.

It's not active fear really, just an undercurrent that never allows you to relax. It keeps your body in a constant state of fight or flight, only you knew deep down in a dreadful spot in your stomach that no matter which you chose - fight or flight - you wouldn’t get out of this alive if Dean didn’t let you. It was all up to him.

So you tried a different approach, “Are you mad?” and keeping that small smile on his face, he straightened and wrapped a guiding arm around your shoulders to lead you back to bed, “D-Dea -”

“Shh. . shh. .” he rubbed your nearest shoulder with his other hand, “Don’t you worry bout a thing babe, leave all the worryin’ up to me.” you gulped,

“But -”

“Quiet.” he muttered, “I ain't feelin' up to murder right now, so you might as well get some rest - but sweetheart?”

“Y-yeah?” he turned you to face him once you made it to the side of the mattress, his expression was deceivingly gentle for his words,

“You ever try and get the drop on me again, and I’ll rip that fucking baby outta your cunt with my fist you got it?” a horrid evil grin took over his face when yours crumpled into tears. 

This was the Dean you knew.

Flinching away from his thumb wiping a tear only made him chuckle, “I could try _fuckin'_ ya again, maybe that would make me like you more, huh?” you looked to the floor and tried not to totally lose it, but you sobbed when he brushed some loose hair behind your ear,

“That was the plan wasn’t it? Get me to fuck you so I’ll fall for you?” he laughed carelessly, “Don’t get me wrong, you got a tight little pussy but you ain’t that good of a fuck. To give a demon feelings - I don’t think I struck gold down there. . your cervix for sure, but gold? Naw.” So in the end it was you who had been manipulated.  _Why did I think I could win here? Beat a demon at his own game? I'm a fool._

Then he grabbed your chin and jerked your face up to look at his black eyes, “I just hope you suffered a little bit - if I was too gentle, we could go for another round to make up for it.”

“N-no,” you blubbered, “ _please_ no.” at your begging, another blinding smile stretched across his face. He looked so scary that it was hard not to close your eyes.

“Aw. . maybe later then.” he mocked, and then releasing your chin he gave your ass a stinging swat with one hand and patted the mattress with the other, “Nighty night baby girl -”

He leaned down to speak to your belly in a slightly higher register, “and baby boy. Hopefully your mommy behaves. . otherwise I might have to shake your hand huh?” you sobbed and stepped away from him, covering your belly with both hands as he towered over you again.

Dean was smiling easily, “Get to bed whore, I’ll wake you up for breakfast."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, this one was heavy.  
> So you may have hurt Deanmon's feelings. . he didn't take it too well did he? As always, comments and suggestions are all welcome here :) I love hearing from ya'll! <3
> 
> Sam's up in the next chapter, so we finally get some much needed Sammy lovin'! 
> 
> I'm on Twitter @DirtyMind_Girl


	6. No

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It all went downhill when you wouldn't eat the jerky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a very short filler chapter, where we find out where all of the confusion came from. And we see this version of demon Dean for who he truly is. Was originally part of a long chapter 6, but I just decided to post it separately instead of doing a time skip. Hope ya'll enjoy :)
> 
> Please heed the trigger warnings.
> 
> Oh! Ms. Cassiepi I promise you there will be comfort/fluff soon to make up for all of this hurt.

Dean did as promised. Woke you up with a brutal slap to the ass. 

It wasn’t the first time you’d woken up screaming in the past couple of days. Honestly, Dean had only woken you up about an hour into your sleep cycle - most of the night had been spent quietly crying and flinching at the slightest sounds. . you were still surprised you’d woken up at all. 

That Dean hadn’t killed you. 

He’d allowed you to scoot away from him to the edge of the mattress, and then plunked a half eaten bag of beef jerky in front of your shins.

“Breakfast.” he’d sneered with a murderous glint in his eyes. 

They had been black all morning. 

In fact, there you sat still in bed, to frightened of the stormy demon snarling and whispering sharply to himself around the cabin. It was clear that he was preparing to meet with Sam, but you knew that his resilient anger was completely directed at you and your actions last night. Which was madness. 

It’s not like he was the one who was almost fucked to death. 

If you weren’t so shy you might try and explain yourself - maybe even blame it all on Sam’s instruction to take some of the heat off - to tell him that you were afraid he would become more violent if you’d said no. 

That you felt like you had to consent in order to protect yourself and your baby, or even that you knew he was just going to rape you anyway, so you figured it might be less gruesome if you just went limp and let him do his thing. 

_ Yeah. All of those reasons sound ludicrous. _

For the umpteenth time that morning Dean stalked past your tabletop mattress, all flared nostrils and black eyes, muttering something under his breath that you were grateful you couldn’t hear. 

Unlike all of the other times though, something caught his eye and he stopped abruptly to stare. You were frozen. Afraid to even breathe.

He swallowed and ticked his jaw, bouncing ever so slightly, “You haven’t touched the jerky.” Fuck his voice was cold. 

When no answer came, those inky eyes flicked up to you, causing your lips to tremble and your arms to constrict around yourself. “Not gonna talk to me slut?” he growled, showing most all of his teeth.

It was when he stepped forward however, that you really became frightened,

“I-I,” you sputtered on impulse, not really knowing what to say but landing on, “I’m not hungry. .” his lips twitched and you had to look away, only to say something that never should have come out, “. . and don’t call me a slut.” 

It was like an ice age struck in the room.

“Excuse me?” his voice sounded like a purr, but threaded with malice. _Oh God._ . “I didn’t catch that.” he prompted again, coming close enough to rest his hands on the bed. You studied those big scarred things, wincing internally at the bruising across your body from those very hands. 

“I-I said I’m not a slut.” you lied softly, hoping that it sounded less confrontational, but what were you kidding? If Dean wanted to punish you, there wouldn’t even have to be a reason. 

He’d just do it.

“Oh you’re not, huh?” you curled tighter into yourself and trailed your eyes along the mattress. Anywhere but his angry face and inhuman eyes. “Because you sure acted like one last night.”

A tear trickled out. Not only was your entire body battered and sore, but now you also had to face ridicule from the very thing that caused all of your hurt? It was too much. He was breaking you.

“Aw, you’re cryin’ on me now girl?” there was an evil smile in his voice, and it made you just blurt,

“You  _ made _ me do it!” followed by a nervous sob, “I-I didn’t want to, you  _ had _ to know that! You made me do it anyway.” silence for a moment, but then a very low quiet growl.

“I. .  _ Made _ you?” it was like he was really struggling to remain calm, “Forgive me for not realizing you didn’t want my dick buried in your pussy, I must not have been able to concentrate with you _begging_ me to bury my dick in your pussy!” by the end of that sentence he was roaring, 

“It wasn’t. . I didn’t want it.” you muttered, shakily wiping a tear away with your head down. It was so obvious how thin the ice was, but your emotions were simply boiling over at this point. 

“You tried to fucking play me bitch - thought if you put out I was gonna start to care about you? Please. I hardly have a fucking soul sweetheart, so you lose. Thanks for playin’.” 

“It wasn’t - that’s not why I did it,” you pleaded, crying over your knees, “I wasn’t trying to  _ play _ you Dean, I-I knew you were just gonna do it anyway! I just thought you would be more gentle if I  _ l-let _ you. .” 

Then he leaned over the mattress, “So how’d that work out?” he deadpanned shamelessly, making your chest hitch in misery. “Knowin’ the little slut you are, shouldn’t have surprised me at all. Begs for my cock only to cry rape as soon as I pull out.” he shook his head, disgusted. 

You were still committed to avoiding his eyes, but practically yelled, “I’m not a  _ slut _ ! I didn’t want to do it. .”  _ Jesus, there are so many reasons why I did it. . He doesn’t care. _

“Is that right?” he snarled, shaking the table to let out some rage, “You sayin’ I raped ya? Told ya I wouldn’t do that, didn’t I?”  _ that’s right. . he did tell me that. _

“Dean I  _ had _ to. . I didn’t have a choice - please I w-was so  _ scared _ !” you were scared now too, trembling violently at this point, hating how this little conversation had escalated.  


He wouldn’t hear you, and you were too frightened to explain yourself very well. 

It was as if the former hunter wasn’t even hearing you, “I mean shit. .” he mused to himself, “might as well do it if that’s what the story’s gonna be, right?” now that got your attention, “Why hang onto any morals when I could be having so much fun. .?” you looked up then, but he was studying the wall to your right, lost in thought.

“Wh-what?” at your tiny whisper, those onyx eyes turned to bore into you. Dean’s voice took on a lit that was mocking comfort, 

“Don’t you think that’d be the perfect punishment? Whinin’ and carrying on about gettin’ raped. . well maybe I should give you somethin’ to cry about.” Oh no this was going South so fast.

“ _N-no_!” you cried, scooting even further back to teeter on the edge of the table, “No!” it was all you could think to say, you were on the verge of bawling, and his smile was monstrous,

“Oh  _ now _ you say that magic word. .” he sneered, standing up straight and tapping on the dirtied bed. He clicked his tongue, “Yeah, maybe a good rough fuck’ll get my mind offa my brother - you know, release some stress.” 

“Jesus Christ, please _don’t_!” you screamed, fidgeting in your place with nowhere to run, “I’m s-sorry I hurt your feelings -”

“Hurt my fucking  _ feelings _ ?” he roared, reducing to an off-kilter chuckle, 

“Or - or  _ whatever _ I did,” you wept desperately, “I’m sorry Dean I’m sorry for everything -  _ anything _ ! Just please don’t hurt me again. .” but as soon as he saw you pulling all of the blankets your way for a feeble attempt at protection, he fisted both and ripped them off of the bed.

Leaving you with his big jacket as your only cover.

His black eyes were somehow darker, 

“Oh baby, this is gonna make our first round look like a cake-walk.” you were clutching at his jacket and sobbing, helpless and at Dean’s mercy, terrified. _Petrified_. The words pouring from your mouth were really just loud slurs and unabashed sobs by the time he waltzed around the table toward you, his face was grim.

It only darkened when nerves made you bounce away slightly, trying to keep his jacket on with one hand, and when he grabbed your ankle muttering something like _‘come’re’_  it was all over,

“NO! NO NO NO!” you shrieked, falling to your side at his swift jerk, and resorting to curling up with your arms protecting your head. The sobs were racking your little body, and you were trembling visibly, all coiled up on the bed like making yourself smaller would protect you. 

Those rough thick fingers brushed across the underside of your thigh where his jacket had ridden up to expose you, and you only cried harder. 

“Please, please, please, _please_. .” you wept shrilly, tightening up in your ball when he skimmed his wandering hand up to the swell of your ass.

“Shh, shh,” he hushed, gripping one leg at the bend in your knee to hold you still, “isn’t this what you wanted sweetheart? A dramatic rape story to go and tattle to my baby brother about? Well I’m just giving you what you asked for.”

“No, no please Dean I don’t want that! I w-wasn’t even gonna tell him,” you were miserable, helpless, and still hurting from last time. Using the grip he had on the one leg, he forcefully turned your hips open toward him and spread your thighs apart even as you were stretching out, trying to get away.

Your screams and efforts doubled, that is until he roared,

“ **ENOUGH!** ” then like a slinky, you coiled back up partially on your side and clutched the torn up mattress while you wept into it. The volume of his deep commanding voice, subdued your loud sobbing momentarily, it scared you into relative silence.

Now you were only sniveling quietly and hiccuping occasionally. But the fear was almost _burning_ you.

“Don’t fucking move,” he warned, only getting a pleading whine from you in response, “Looks like I bruised ya up pretty good kid, can you feel it?” 

“Y-yes. .” you sniveled, beginning to sob quietly when you heard him start to undo his jeans, “No. . no, p-please no. .” it was soft, maybe you weren’t even speaking to him, perhaps it was just to the world, to yourself, to _God_ maybe.

_ How could this be happening again? _

Dean finally ripped his jacket away, uncovering the rest of your battered body for his hungry black eyes, and you screamed in utter torment, turning your face further into the mattress. 

“Such a pretty little girl,” he muttered, groping your chest and hips uncaringly. When he twisted a nipple you cried out again, “You scream one more time, I’m gaggin’ you. Got it?” you sobbed through tightly closed lips, while he continued to touch you. 

Soon Dean crowded in close and pressed his hips up against the apex of your thighs, settling in before he leaned over you to whisper in your ear,

“You ready for me sweetheart?” you could hear the husky scratch that came with arousal. You were done for. This is gonna kill me. 

“ _Noo-o-o-o_ ,” you mewled lowly, tears oozing out of your tightly shut eyes, “P-please, _please_ no. .” full lips pressed up against the space right under your earlobe, and lingered for a moment. . it was almost tender before he pulled away,

“Try not to tense up, I hear it makes it worse.” he taunted, lifting back up to grip your knees and line up. Just the thought that he was so close to fucking you again made you lose it,

“Dean _PLEASE_!” his fingers on your legs tensed at your wail, “Please, please God don’t do this. . I-I’m so hurt. Please Dean I’m so _hurt_. .” it probably sounded pathetic, but there wasn’t much else you could do for yourself.

“I think I told you to shut the fuck up.” he snarled, jerking you to the very edge against him. You didn’t even have to look to know that his cock was probably already out and jutting up against his stomach. “This is what happens to lying little sluts. Take note.” 

One leg was released, but you realized it was only to adjust himself when the large head of him was once again nudging up against your folds. 

“NO!” you cried, clenching every muscle in your body for another agonizing entrance. “I-I didn’t lie to manipulate you Dean! I s-swear. . please I _swear_. . Sam told me to. . I was only following his instructions! He said you’d kill me if I didn’t - please, I didn’t want to die!” and then whispered, “Please, I’m _sorry_. . I don’t want to die. .”

“I wasn’t gonna kill yo -”

“You would’ve done it anyway,” you were still tearfully whispering, “I knew it. I just didn’t want you to hurt me, b-but you _did_. . I’m s-so hurt.” you told him again, shuddering at the feeling of him so close to entering.

It felt like you might be sick. 

“Sam told you to?” he murmured after a long moment, “Told you to ask me to fuck you?”

“N-no.” you admitted, but quickly added, “He just told me to never tell you no, to n-not make you angry.” a high squeak passed your lips when you felt him rock forward a centimeter, fuck you were so tense.

“Sorry,” he surprised you, “So you weren’t trying to fuck with me? Weren't trying to get me to feel bad for you?” 

“ _D-do_ you?” he growled low,

“You are not in a position to play with me baby,” and to punctuate that, he rutted up and down on your sore lips, making you stutter,

“N-no I wasn’t trying to fuck with you before, I-I was only trying to protect myself.” your chest jerked with suppressed breaths.

A huge sigh left Dean, “Interesting. .” he breathed, and you began to relax when out of nowhere he crammed himself inside of you with one savage thrust. Once again he split you wide over his massive rod. 

There was so much pain that a scream was frozen in your throat, but a strange cut came out when he fell forward to brace his hands on either side of your head. The demon completely covered you. 

He was so huge. Every part of him.

“Did you really think I was gonna walk baby?” he panted, staying buried inside of you for a moment, “Me? A demon? Nuh-uh. . Not when I got a hard-on to rival steel sweetheart. You feel that?” it was then that you realized you had clamped your hand over your mouth at some point to keep the sounds in, you just spoke into it,

“ _Pleeeaaase_. .” it was a high whine, every muscle you owned was tight, and shit you were in so much fucking pain. . 

“What’s that now?” he chided, shifting forward even more to draw a wail from your chest. It was then that you just started sobbing brokenly. It was then that you gave up. 

_Dean Winchester is a monster_.

 

It seemed like it took the demon forever to finish. 

Repeatedly and without pity, he rammed into you, battering your cervix and splitting you open. All your screams accomplished was securing a heavy hand over your lips halfway through his merciless performance. 

Sometimes he spoke, but you were to disconcerted to hear what was said. . it was likely only insults and rash vulgarity anyway.

Shock seemed to numb the pain after a while, until it was only abrupt jolts and pressure around you neck and chest from where he kept sinking his sharp teeth. You did however, still feel like you were going to be sick. 

That never went away. And neither did the grunts and growls happening above your head, or the unwanted nuzzling where he licked up your blood from his vicious bites. 

It went on this way for the better part of an hour it seemed, until finally Dean gripped your waist hard enough to crush bone, and rose up to groan at the long-caving ceiling.

Again he came inside of you, and again it made you wish you were dead.

“ _Goddamn_ ,” he panted, reaching down to where he still impaled you. There was a light brushing of his fingers around your screaming entrance, “you got a cunt like heroine, I might be addicted.” his hand came up with some unwilling wetness that was tinted with dark crimson, he sucked and licked on it until his hand was clean. 

When he pulled out, it was just as angry as the rest of the rape, and your body rested limp where he dropped you. All you could do was stare at the ceiling while he moved about the cabin, preparing for the exchange like nothing had even happened. 

Like he didn’t just use you and leave you bloody. 

He was right. That _did_ make last night look like a cakewalk. “If all goes as planned today, I won’t have to say goodbye. You’ll be mine until I kill ya.” when your mind wanted to react to that, you still just watched the gradually collapsing roof while ghostly tears leaked out of your wide (e/c)’s. 

Then something soft hit the side of your face.

“Get dressed, don’t want Sammy to see what a whore you are, right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything begins to look a little brighter in chapter 7 loves. I don't want to spoil anything but Dean, in true Winchester form, COULD be suppressing some feelings (shocker). ;)
> 
> Comments are always welcome, I love to hear what's goin on in those dirty minds of yours <3
> 
> ~ On Twitter @DirtyMind_Girl ~


	7. Tell Me About Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean meets Sam for the exchange - you for The First Blade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is anybody still there?? Thank you for following and sorry of the offensively long wait! Hope you enjoy this chapter :)

Everything felt like it was happening underwater.

Dean’s voice seemed muffled and distant, your vision was left unfocused and uninterested. . all you could think about was what had happened to you over the past 72 hours: Kidnapping, coercion, kidnapping again, a near miscarry, violence, threats, nightmares. . rape. And rape again.

It was no wonder you were sitting in the Impala as a shell of a person. After what Dean had done only about an hour ago, you were forced to dress, tossed into that damn black car, and subjected to blaring classic rock almost immediately.

The Demon had only provided you with your white jean shorts - tattered and heavily stained but at least cleaned - and surprisingly enough a black hoodie that belonged to him. It was huge on you and smelled like his cologne, but so soft and _so_ warm. . and after everything you would take the comfort over pride.

Dean was tapping his fingers on the wheel, but it wasn’t in time to the music. The Demon had a sour look on his face and it wasn’t lost on you that he kept glancing your way every few minutes.

You shut your eyes, of course imagining that he was planning on pulling over and having you on the side of the road again. _God no._ Everything hurt. To your surprise you felt a warm tear drip down your cheek, one of many, but this one you actually noticed.

It made you hate yourself a little more to be crying in front of Dean, but you just let it go. . you had to let some things go after all, or it was going to crush you.

Suddenly Dean’s hand snapped out and there was no more numbing music. Only the patter of small rain drops smattering on the windshield,

“What’s the matter?” the question was gruff and you actually looked at him wondering how in the hell he could really be asking a question like that. Apparently you stared too long, “Well? What’s up with the waterworks, kid?”

Saying the first thing that spilled out you told him, “I hurt.”

“Hmm,” he grunted, shrugging, “we’re almost there. Guess I mighta been a little rough.” you only stared at him and something seemed to snap to his mind, “Not that I give a shit.” he added quickly, “Your fault.”

“My fault?” you asked quietly, “Why?”

Dean’s face became hard and you feared that you’d gone too far by accident, “Well if you don’t know the answer to that, I guess I haven’t done my job.” the car slowed, and once again your blood began to pump a little faster.

_Please no, not again._

“No, _no_ ,” you reached for him and grasped the edge of his coat, the fabric was rough on your fingers, “no, I - I’ve learned.” it was all you could think to say. Dean slapped your hand away, disgruntled to say the least,

“Knock it off -”

You whimpered desperately, “You d-don’t have to pull over. I know I w-was bad!” your voice got high with fear, and he finally looked over at you, clearly annoyed.

“Actually princess I _do_ have to pull over,” your stomach dropped. _This can’t be happening again_. Dean gripped your chin with a flash in his greens, “Cause this is the meet point.” he turned your face to face out the water spotted windshield and you saw the only thing that you’d been needing for the last two days.

The only person that had been getting your through everything. Sam.

He was there leaning against an old truck, looking like a daydream in his brown coat and green flannel. He looked to you like sunshine and hope, with yellow hills rolling behind him in the background. Picture perfect.

When you gave a little cry, Dean released your chin and you were immediately fumbling with your door,

“Hey,” the eldest brother bit, clamping a strong hand around the back of your neck, “Where the hell do you think your going?”

Your body was paralyzed like a kitten, “S-Sam -”

“No. This goes down smoothly, you really think I’m just gonna let ya get out and run off like that?” he snorted some kind of insult, but your eyes were glued on Sam. . now seeing something that you hadn’t at first.

His face was grim, brows drawn down in the middle. . that little worry swirl that appeared in the middle of his forehead when he thought too hard, and he looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. It hurt your heart to think that you were the cause of that.

“. . . you get all that kid?” your heart froze. _Oh God he’s been talking this whole time._

“Uh, _y-yeah_.” displeasure thickened the atmosphere in the car, he could see right through your bullshit,

“So you’re gonna. . .” he prompted knowingly. Swallowing, your eyes flickered around the car desperately, and when Dean’s fingers began tightening on the back of your neck you did the only thing you could think of,

“I-I’m sorry Dean,” and you squeezed your eyes closed tightly, waiting fearfully for him to lose it and hurt you some more. But he did something that surprised you,

“Shit. .” the word rode on a sigh, and you were released with a shove, immediately cowering away, and peeking up at him with worried (e/c) eyes. The Demon’s lips were pursed, eyes crinkled, and he had one hand on the door handle,

“Just. . just wait in here for me to get you sweetheart.” _Sweetheart?_ Then he looked at you, there was something deep in those pretty greens that you couldn’t read. . but you were damn sure that it wasn’t hate or anger.

It was something else, and it almost frightened you more.

“Okay.” you mouthed the word, and his eyes stayed soft,

“Okay what?” the man watched you carefully, flicking his gaze up and down your tense form and licking his lips,

“Sir.” you whispered, earning a wolfish grin. His eyes flooded black, making your breath stutter,

“Atta girl,” with that he was up and out of the car, slamming the door and leaving you dumbfounded. _What the fuck was that?_

Dean waltzed to the front of the Impala with his arms out in a casual gesture, “Sammy! Long time no see. .” he lifted a finger to point, “You look like shit.” Watching Sam address Dean reminded you of the first night you met him. He was all business, indifferent and cold, it triggered your nerves to start buzzing. You didn’t like seeing this Sam,

“Cut the shit,” he narrowed his eyes, and moved forward a few steps, “Let’s just get this over with Dean, the sooner we get this done the sooner I never have to see you again.”

Dean straightened and pulled his head back like he’d just been flicked in the nose, if you didn’t know better you might have thought that Sam just hurt his feelings. _Couldn’t be._

“Ah Sammy, you’ve changed.”

“It’s Sam.” his voice was hard, and you could see from the car that his jaw was locked. Dean’s voice took on a high mocking edge,

“Well you’re just breakin’ my heart,” when he got no reaction from his little brother, his shoulders squared and his voice became low and rough, “Fine. You got the Blade?”

Sam reached back and pulled a horrible knife from the back of his jeans, it looked like a sharpened jaw bone of some kind, “Not a chance in hell I’m giving to you until I have .” he smirked. You were glad you couldn’t see the look on Dean’s face.

Without turning to look at you, Dean raised a hand and signaled for you to get out of the car. Of course you obeyed, too afraid to do otherwise, but you found yourself shaking as you pulled the door handle and wobbling as you stood.

Sam’s dark hazel eyes zeroed in on you as soon as you rose up out of the car, and you could see them brighten right before your eyes. However when he took in your state, they immediately became stormy again and the shame forced you to look down at your bare feet.

There you had a full view of the dark purple bruises speckling your thighs, you felt too exposed.

“,” that was Dean, you didn’t look up, “put a little pep in your step.” swallowing, you followed his orders, very aware of the brothers eyes on you until you reached Dean. The man slung an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into him so roughly it had you wincing,

“Aw sweetheart, don’t look so shy. . Why don’t you tell Sammy hi, huh?” you closed your eyes for a moment, then raised them to see Sam watching you with borderline heartbreak,

“H-hi Sam.” and just like that he knew you were broken, it only took two words. There was no trace of the brave spunky woman he met on the street three nights ago, now it was only a frightened beaten down little girl.

“Dean.” he spoke through teeth, “What the fuck have you done?” Dean’s chuckle rumbled through your small frame, and he shook you lightly against him in what might have been a kindhearted nature,

“Well I told ya brother,” your eyes welled, “you’ve found yourself a nice fuck.” suddenly the Demon shoved you forward and it caught you so off guard that you tripped over your tender feet and fell against the rough asphalt with a cry. Sam didn’t move. Dean didn't’ move.

Everything was still besides you bringing a hand to your face to wipe your nose.

And then you spoke, “I’m sorry Sam.” a pathetic snivel followed, and a tear trickled out, but Sam didn’t answer. Instead he addressed his brother,

“I give you the Blade. You leave. Clear?” you could hear the grin in Dean’s voice,

“Scout’s honor.” you shut your eyes lightly waiting for the hammer to come down as both men closed the gap between each other. Surely Dean wouldn’t just walk away, not after everything. No, he had some sort of trick up his sleeve, Sam _had_ to know that.

Soon you found yourself trapped between Demon and Hunter when two sets of large boots stopped on either side of you. You were still. Staring at the little pebbles in front of you on the road. Seconds ticked by. . . you weren’t breathing. _Just take the thing and leave. .  please just leave. ._

In the blink of an eye you were _kicked_ forward, “Ahh!” you cried out landing flat on your tender belly and scraping your arms on the rough road when your sweatshirt rode up. It only got worse when you felt the treaded underside of Dean’s boot rest against the side of your head,

“ _SAM_!” you screamed blindly, reaching out for his unmoving feet,

“Would ya listen to that,” Dean rumbled, applying a little pressure, and chuckling when you squirmed, “she’s callin’ out to ya brother. . aren’t you gonna do somethin’?”

You sobbed, “Sam _please_. .”

“Dean -”

“No.” the Demon interrupted, “I’ll tell ya what you’re gonna do.” he snarled, “you’re gonna turn around and walk back to that piece of shit truck, get in, and go home. Clear?” your heart fell.

 _Dean is gonna keep me. I’m never getting out of this._ Tears picked up audibly when your chest started jerking, it was making Dean mad and breaking Sam’s heart but you couldn’t help it when you thought about how much more this Demon might put you through,

“Can it sister.” Dean warned, pressing his hard soled boot into the side of your face. The asphalt grinded your cheek.

“Dean.” it was clear Sam was trying to stay calm, “We had a fucking deal. Let her go.”

“New deal.” he clipped, “You drive off into the sunset, and I don’t crush her fucking skull.” that was punctuated by a shrill scream from you when he rocked forward, the pain was unreal. Your vision was blurring.

Sam was desperate, “Why?”

“Well _one_ ,” Dean remained casual like he wasn’t grinding you into the ground, “I actually kind of like this slut. She’s a good little girl.” you whimpered, “And two. .” he leaned forward, “I’m a fucking Demon.”

A loud sizzling sound up took out of nowhere and Dean’s weight rose off of you so quickly that your head pounded with sudden lack of pressure. It hurt. So much so that you barely heard the struggle happening six feet up.

“Cas get the Blade!”

“Sam. . .” you groaned, touching your bloody cheek with one hand while clutching your pulsing temple with the other. A thud vibrated the ground right next to you and finally made you open your eyes. It was Dean. He landed unconscious beside you, his face ending up only inches from yours,

“ _Ahh_ !” you squealed, recoiling back from the evil man. Unconscious or not you still didn’t trust him, “S-Sam -”

“Hey, , hey,” came that velvet smooth voice that you’d been missing for a lifetime now. Then he was touching you. . big hands locked over your scraped and bruised midsection as your friendly giant dropped to his knees to hold you. “Hey, you’re okay. . it’s okay.” he soothed, squeezing you into him when you clutched him.

You snuggled in close right there on the road, convinced that if it was possible, you would climb right into Sam’s chest. So busy breathing in his scent and absorbing his warmth, you didn’t even realize there was another man there until he spoke,

“Sam,” came a very familiar deep voice, “I think it would be best if I deliver  back to safety while you transport Dean.” Sam clutched you harder, pressing his forehead into your hair,

“You’re right.” he sighed heavily, “Wouldn’t want a replay of last time.”

“ _Noooo_ ,” you whined brokenly, staying locked on his shirt, “I wanna stay with you. .” Sam was safe. _God_ you needed safe. Long fingers picked up your chin, and your Hunter pulled away a fraction to force you to look in his eyes. They were wet and gleaming, the deepest brown you’d ever seen,

“I’m going to protect you now,” you swallowed at the tone of his voice, it made your heart pump, “I’m here. _Always_.” a tear trickled out of your tired eyes, “I need you to go with Cas for now. He’s gonna take you to the Bunker and then I’m gonna be there before you can blink. I promise.”

You sniveled and did your best to nod in his grip, “Okay.”

“Okay?” he smiled and huffed an almost frantic sounding little laugh, you even managed to lift your lips a little, “Okay.” he repeated. Sam tipped your head even further up and lit a soft warm kiss in the center of your forehead. The small action somehow made you feel protected. Sam was going to protect you.

The giant rose up from his knees, and took you with him while he stood, holding you in his arms like he was rescuing you from a fire. You felt like he was.

“Cas.” his voice took on a hard edge, and you peeked out from Sam’s chest to see the somber Angel watching your exchange with those intelligent blues. **_“You are not a prophet . Your little boy is.”_ ** Castiel’s haunting voice played in your mind.

“Put Dean in the Impala would ya?” he leaned his forehead down to touch yours and then like an afterthought he called, “The trunk!” and actually cracked a smile like a little boy playing a prank on his brother. _Some_ humor.

Although your eyes were closed, you could hear Castiel going to work as you breathed in your Hunter without a care in the world. Your body ached, your mind cried, your soul was broken, but somehow high off of the ground in Sam’s arms none of that mattered.

The feeling of his forehead against yours, his warm breath on your face, his blood pumping strong through his veins. . it grounded you, it made you feel safe.

“,” his voice was low and quiet, it caused you to open your eyes and see him staring at you from inches away, “When I get back to the Bunker we need to talk about something serious.” you swallowed, blinking slow,

“Okay. .” you wondered if he wanted a recount of everything that happened in that cabin, but something told you this wasn’t about Dean at all. For some reason that made you even more nervous. Crunching of rocks under shoes neared, and Sam finally broke eye contact to find Castiel approaching,

“We should move.” he sounded uneasy, upon looking at him you noticed his blue eyes were studying the plains around you. The sky was becoming dark with rain clouds and the air was chilly on your bare skin,

“You’re right,” Sam nodded, moving very close to the Angel to transfer you into his arms. Castiel didn’t even blink at holding a grown woman like that, you probably felt like a gram to him. The loss of Sam panged your chest for a moment, Castiel wasn’t as warm or soft. . he was like _stone_.

It felt as if you were being held by a blue eyed statue. That coupled with the wind made you start to shiver, and then you were pinned with those intense eyes of his,

“Are you troubled?” he was so to the point,

“Um, I mean yeah but. .” his eyes crinkled, “but mostly I’m just cold.” the dark haired man squinted at you, blinked, and turned his eyes back up to Sam sort of indifferently. For a moment you wondered if you’d irritated him, and just like that you felt your chest tighten, before you could stop it you whispered two words out of habit alone,

“I’m sorry.” his hard gaze snapped back down to you and instantly softened. He appeared confused,

“I do not know how to respond.” he grumbled, glancing back up to Sam sort of helplessly. Sam stepped in and took your hand, smiling at you in what was supposed to be a reassuring way,

“It’s okay , you have nothing to worry about. Cas is just. .” he squinted and suppressed a laugh, “Cas.” he finished lamely. “I’ll see you soon.” with another squeeze to your hand and a hard swallow, Sam moved out of sight toward Dean’s black ride. Taking deep breaths, you tried not to think about Sam leaving you alone again.

Castiel cleared his throat roughly, “You are not actually alone.” your eyes bugged and you looked up to him,

“D-did you just. . read my _mind_?” you brought your hands up to your chest and kneaded your fingers nervously,

“You would prefer it if I did not.” he asked it like a statement. Small raindrops began sprinkling across your cheeks and bare thighs, you shivered,

“Yeah. .”

“Of course.” he nodded, tightening his arms around your body, “Now brace yourself.” the world around you became a blur, and a pressure in your took up that was so great it had you closing your eyes. Just as you were about to scream everything was still, and Castiel’s hold relaxed again,

He spoke after a moment, “You can open your eyes now .” you cracked them open, blinking until your vision cleared.

Castiel had transported you to a large room with a high rounded ceiling. Everything appeared to be made of stone, suggesting that you were in some kind of old industrial building. A table stood out to you, lit up with a world map printed across the glass, and book shelves lined up behind it full of thick dusty books.

Castiel stood still while you looked around, allowing you to take in two dimly lit corridors that stretched for about 50 yards until they each turned off in different directions. At the back of this huge room was a iron staircase that led up to a thick steel door, above it was a metal plate marked EXIT.

“Where. . .” you muttered, finding a large swinging stainless steel door that could only lead to a kitchen. At least that’s what it reminded you of. “Where _are_ we?” it came out a whisper, and you suddenly realized that you were clutching onto Castiel’s trenchcoat with a death grip.

“This is the Bunker.” he informed you, “The Winchester’s have recently taken up residence here between hunts.”

“Like. . this is their _house_?” you asked stupidly, earning a quiet snort from the Angel,

“Yes this is their home.” he answered, moving toward the war table, “Would you like to sit down?” you nodded absently, still gazing around the giant room in wonder. The Angel set you down gently on the tabletop, watching you carefully as you winced in discomfort from the movement.

Everything Dean had done to you was still very fresh on your skin, and it was uncomfortable to sit with what had to be classified as trauma down below.

“You are injured.” he observed bluntly, squinting when you nodded and humming when you teared up. Not being used to Castiel’s demeanor had you thinking that he might not like you, “There is no need to cry.” he told you, shifting awkwardly,

“Can you - can you just be nice?” that felt like a strange thing to say to a person, especially because he wasn’t really being mean. “Can you please just be nice to me?” you sniveled, rightfully feeling like an idiot.

“I. . can _heal_ you, if that is what you want. .” for the first time that deep voice sounded unsure, it was clear he wasn’t used to dealing with crying women. . and he wasn’t very good at it at all.

“You can?” you looked up to find him staring at you hard, like he was trying to piece together a puzzle,

Without a word he extended a hand toward your forehead, pausing when you flinched away, “This will not hurt.” and he touched you. Warm tingling passed through your entire being that became more prominent in spots with injury, but he was right, it didn’t hurt at all, it just felt strange.

When the warmth traveled to your abused center, you actually gasped and squirmed a little, reaching out to Cas for comfort and gripping his other hand. He squeezed. Seconds passed before he took his fingers away, but kept a strong hold on your hand.

“Am I. .” you touched your thighs, finding that they were cleared of any bruises or scrapes, and wiggled on the table to test yourself for pain. You actually grinned when there was none.

“Healed, yes.” for the first time Castiel returned your smile, it was bright.

“And my baby?” he squeezed your hand reassuringly,

“Healthy.” then something made his smile falter, “Would you. . like to talk about anything?” your chest ached,

“I don’t know.” even thinking of Demon Dean and your time together made you panic, there was no way you could talk about him. . let alone to someone you’d only just met. Angel or not. Nodding once, Castiel thinned his lips and reached out to grab a chair for himself. He held onto your fingers as he took a seat,

“,” he cleared his throat softly and finally looked back up into your eyes, your mouth must’ve been hanging open, “We can talk about anything you like.” it was your turn to break eye contact, and you took to studying your bare knees.

Swallowing, you started, “Well. .” and swung your feet nervously,

“Yes?” he prompted gently after a moment, running his thumb over your knuckles,

“Um, what’s - what’s Heaven like?” and you glanced up only for a millisecond, “I mean unless you _can’t_ tell me then -then you don’t have to. Well _obviously_ you don’t have to do anything you don’t want cause you - I mean you’re _you_ and all - uh nevermind forget I asked-”

“Enough,” he rumbled suddenly cutting off your embarrassing babbling and you peeked up from your knees to see him failing to suppress a smile, “Would you like me to tell you about Heaven?”

“Really?” you asked hopefully, wonder shining in your eyes.

“Of course.” he settled in his chair, still holding your hand tightly in his, “It was beautiful there -”

“ _Was_?” he tilted his head and grimaced slightly,

“It’s changed a little since I’ve been there. . Now is not a good time to go to Heaven.”

“Oh.” you deflated a little,

“With the right person in charge it’s everything you could ever imagine,” his eyes were full of promise, “I can only hope it will fall into the right hands again.”

“So. . what did _you_ do when you were there?” Castiel’s eyes became far away, but he seemed to be having a pleasant memory resurface,

“I was commander of the Garrison,” it was easy to picture him there, commanding a Heavenly army,

“Who did you fight?” he actually chuckled a little at your wording,

“Demons, Lucifer. . Ourselves often, it’s always been a bit of a broken system I suppose. Sam and Dean showed me that.” his baby blues became somber, and you tightened your fingers around his hand. It was clear where his thoughts lie,

“Is Dean going to be okay?” it hurt to ask that question after all he’d done to you, but if your child’s visions showed you anything, Dean Winchester was a great man. . Just a _really_ bad Demon.

“I’m sure of it.” Cas blinked at you, “He has to be.” After a moment of watching each other in comfortable quiet, Castiel inhaled and settled down again,

“So, you wish to know all about Heaven.” he smiled at you, and you actually giggled a little like a little girl being told a bedtime story by her daddy. You sure had fallen far down on the badass ladder, but you knew this Angel wouldn’t judge you by your weaknesses. For a moment you were safe, you didn’t have to play pretend.

“Yeah.” you agreed softly,

“Well let’s start with _your_ Heaven. . .”

Castiel talked to you until your eyes were drooping, but there was no way you were gonna doze off and miss a single word this guy said. He answered every question you asked without hesitation and somehow managed to make you forget that you’d been held hostage and raped by a Demon for the past couple days.

You laughed, teared up, and became enraptured in all of Castiel’s tales. . it was decided that this being might be one of your favorite familiars of all time.

********

“So you and Dean were in _Purgatory_ together?” your voice was high pitched, and made Cas wince. He was just about to answer when a deafening slam had you jumping off of the table with a pathetic cry, and clutching Cas’s trenchcoat.

Clearly your fear was for good reason, because Sam was crashing through the thick door at the top of the stairs with his black eyed big brother in tow. As soon as you saw Dean your stomach dropped and your heart clenched with icy fear,

“Oh no. .” you whimpered, hiding behind Castiel as Dean roared and growled all the way through the door and down the stairs. It was when he hit the landing that he spied you cowering behind his Angel friend,

“Well _there_ she is!” he shouted, immediately trying to move toward you even with Sam holding his shackled wrists behind his back,

“Dean -”

“Naw I bet she missed me!” he chuckled as Sam pushed him along, “You miss me you little slut? Bet you’re just _dreamin’_ about the time we spent together, huh?” tears pooled in your eyes, and you finally had to bury your face in Cas’s back to hide from Dean’s terrifying black eyes and leering smile,

“Aw what’s the matter sweetheart,” Sam was grunting as he pushed Dean toward the nearest corridor, “I know you wanna have some more fun. . We’re gonna have all kinds of fun after I rip Sammy’s throat out. Only I’ll fuckin’ kill ya this time princess, that’s a promise.” a sob bursted out into Castiel’s unmoving back, and you clutched him harder, grateful for the contact.

“You're mine sweetheart - see ya soon!” he called, cackling like mad as he faded down the corridor with Sam. You didn’t realize how hard you were actually crying until Castiel turned around and you began to slide to your knees, clutching him as you sobbed yourself into a tear puddle,

“Did you hear that Cas?” you wept, scooting closer when he crouched down, “He - he gonna _kill_ me! He’s gonna kill me. . .” you bawled in a high pitch like a two year old while Cas easily lifted you up to stand and sit you in the nearest chair.

He appeared dumbfounded by your hysterics, but seeing Dean so soon and so angry made it impossible to stop,

“I’ll get Sam.” he promised before disappearing and leaving you alone. _Dean’s gonna have more fun with me. . and then he’s gonna kill me. I don’t want to die. . I’m gonna die._

It only took a moment and dozens of deep breaths to stop crying so hard, there was still panic, but you were battling to get a grip.

“?” with a gasp you whirled around in your seat to find Sam standing in the mouth of the corridor Dean had disappeared down.  
“Dean. . is he -”

“Cas has him in the dungeon. He’s. . . contained.” he grimaced and scratched his head. _Dungeon? Jesus._ “Are you okay?”

You snorted, “No. . Not even close.” the big man shuffled on his feet for a moment, "Can I... Take a bath or something?" 

A frown tugged on Sam's lips, his face reddened before your eyes.

“Yeah uh - yes absolutely." He stuttered, and then a little more calmly he said, "Not to put more on your mind, but we uh, we need to talk .”

 _Great_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awe, we got some Cas lovin'. :)
> 
> Comments are welcome as always, I love to hear from ya'll :) Next up is Midnight, and a new fic I wrote. . Thank you all for reading!! Loves! <3
> 
> Come kink with me on Twitter @DirtyMind_Girl - I tend to follow back ;)


	8. It's Only A Scare Tactic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AHEAD: Manipulation. Humor. Terror. Recovery. Poor judgement. Spaghetti. And a BIG reveal.
> 
> Head trigger warnings and tags for this chapter. Enjoy :)

Hot water contrasted with the cold air in the bathroom. It made your skin prickle.

(e/c) eyes lightly closed, you sat submerged to your chin in the oversized tub Sam lead you to. It was as if you could feel every speck of dirt, dried blood, and lingering alien DNA lifting off of your skin.

It was so calm in that foggy bathroom that you actually found yourself dozing, you were so tired from your recent adventures that it was becoming almost impossible to fight sleep any longer. Your thoughts however had different plans, your mind wouldn’t die. One question hung over you from the moment Sam left you to bathe.

_What happens now?_

The raging Demon in the basement wasn’t easy to forget about either, and you wondered short of being wrapped in chains what kind of restraints would hold that animal back. His deep voice suddenly played unwelcome in your head.  ** _“You really think I haven’t noticed you skipping around in your birthday suit? That I wasn’t gonna do anything about it? Huh?”_**

Squeezing your eyes hard, you sank further into the steaming water, feeling chills creep up your spine as your lips went under. _No, no go away. ._

 **_“D-Dean, p-please let go. You’re h-hurting me.”_ ** warm liquid hinted behind your eyelids, but your face remained slack. . you inched further down until the water tickled your nostrils.

 **_“I’m gonna fuck you , fuck you out here in the dark. I’ll pull you outta this bathwater right now and fuck you on top of this frozen grass. So tell me baby, what do you think about that?”_ ** and then you dropped down, allowing the hot bathwater to engulf you and close over the top of your head.

 **_“W-wait -” you were sobbing, grasping at his hurtful hand and trying your best not to struggle too much. “Dean p-please don’t hurt me!”_ ** tears mixed with dirty bathwater, and you lungs were only beginning to burn for air. You couldn’t get him out of your head. . you’d never be able to get him out of your head. The water would make it all go away.

When he was inside of you, you recalled what he said. . how he _felt_.  ** _“Fuckin’ knew you were a twisted little slut. You wanna fuck a demon baby?”_ ** your chest jerked, it needed air, but staying underwater would be so easy. . so much easier than what was on the surface.

 **_“Then I’m gonna show you what it feels like to fuck a demon.”_ ** Memories were tearing you up inside, just like he had. You could remember every fingertip bruise, every small cut, every tear - it was like you could feel them all happening again.  ** _“Deeeaan. . .”_** you had squealed his name.

Everything was boiling up inside and you felt like you were about to explode.

 **_“That’s right baby, scream for me.”_ ** and you did. You opened your mouth and shrieked out your last bit of air into the bathwater. Water sloshed noisily over the edge of the tub, and you thought about Sam hearing you for a split second - that was all it took. Sam.

His smile, his voice. . that was all it took to push up out of the water with a splash, gasping desperately in between sobs.

“Oh God. .” you cried breathlessly, hiccupping on air. Had you almost just killed yourself? “Oh _God_. .” you panted again. What made it all so much worse was the fact that you’d forgotten you weren’t the only person you would have killed. Your _baby_. You had forgotten about your baby. . there was a life inside of you and you were a terrible mother.

A terrible fucking mother.

“Hey ?” Sam’s voice out of nowhere was startling and you sloshed water over the edge of the tub, trying to shake of what you’d almost just done.

“Shit. .” you hissed quietly, but it echoed in the small room. _Had he heard all of that?_

“You alright in there?” he called through the door, “It’s been over an hour. .” _Well how long should a rape victim’s first bath be?_ You thought bitterly and then clapped back at yourself when you remembered that oh, this wasn’t your first bath at all. You shivered, actively suppressing memories.

“Uh, yeah everything’s fine!” you called back absurdly, “I guess I can finish up in here.” you glanced around, hugging yourself around your chest. Honestly you didn’t want to get out of the bath yet, because that meant that Sam was going to try and have a “serious talk” with you. Whatever that could be.

For God's sake you didn't even feel stable enough for a normal talk.

 _Maybe he doesn’t want us after his brother used us the way he did. ._ your asshole mind supplied. _Or maybe we’ve become more of a burden than a help and he’s going to ask us to go home._ Home. That would be an adjustment now. _Oh! He also might ask us to relive every gory detail of our time with Dean, so he can think of us in that context forever._

_Fuck. Me._

_Fuck me hard._

It must have been a long time since anyone said anything, “I have food if you’re hungry,” ah, so Sam was bribing you now. On cue your stomach rumbled. 

“Oh, okay.” your white - barely white - jean shorts were crumpled up in the corner with Dean’s sweatshirt, “I don’t have any clothes though.” the door cracked open a little and you scrunched up in the tub like a slinky to hide yourself,

“ _Sam_!” you cried, only to see his arm poke through the door with a bundle of clothes bunched up in his fingers,

“Not looking,” he assured, dropping the heap of comfy looking clothing on the floor before quickly closing the door again, “I hope they fit alright, it’s some of my stuff.” that warmed your chest up a little, and without consent a dumb smile lit up on your tired face.

“Thanks,” you mumbled softly, trying to pull yourself together, “I’ll be out in a minute.” you heard Sam say something like “okay” as his footsteps receded back out of his room, and grudgingly made the executive decision to pull the drain plug.

A long moan heaved through your chest as you braced yourself on the sides of the tub and levered up to stand. The towel Sam left on the shower rod was soft on your skin as you dried, and you once again said a silent thank you to Castiel for healing every injury.

Well. . _most_ of your injuries - you were still feeling very much broken, there just weren’t any marks on the outside to match.

Loud sucking came from the drain as it drank up all of your filth from the past two days, you grimaced at it as it went, glad to be smelling like soap instead of blood and dirt.

“Okay. . time for clothes,” you murmured to yourself to break the silence, as you stepped onto cold tile. Plucking up something from Sam’s bundle, you held it up with a perplexed frown. They were sweatpants. “Time for some _giant_ clothes.” you took your time getting dressed, still putting off your mystery talk with Sam.

It was frustrating that he made you so nervous now that you had him, when all you wanted for the past 48 hours _was_ him. Damn feelings. Of course looking at yourself in the mirror was the worst fucking thing you could have done - Sam’s clothes (while _super_ soft and comfortable) were insanely big on you.

You looked like a damn toddler playing dress up in her daddy’s pajamas.

“ _Fuuuuck_.” you groaned, fiddling with your hair for a moment before you decided you couldn’t doddle for another second. You put your hand on the doorknob, “Here goes.”

The Bunker was drafty, a cool breeze hit you as soon as the door came open, and riding on it was a delicious aroma. _Fooood_. The last thing you ate was rice and beans over 12 hours ago when Dean handfed you.

Ugh, you really needed to stop thinking about him.

Sam’s room was empty, his door gaped open into the corridor. The hallway was still very dim and that made you nervous; you supposed that an adult onset fear of the dark was probably gearing up to greet you with a middle finger at some point, but after everything you couldn’t be too surprised.

Swallowing, you padded barefoot out into the hall, trying to ignore a nervous ball coiling in your gut. Again, ignoring your intuition. That’s how you got into this mess in the first place.

“Oh . . .” a deep ghostly singsong resonated through the stone passageway, and had you freezing in your tracks. No, no that’s just my mind playing - “. . .” there it was again. Hairs prickled on the back of your neck, “Sweetheart. . I _know_ you’re there. . .” with a stuttering breath you called out,

“D- _Dean_?” quiet huffing that was growing in volume raised goosebumps all over your body, and soon it developed into deeping booming laughter that seemed to be echoing everywhere. “SAAAM!” you screamed, regaining control of your muscles to stumble/sprint down the dark corridor toward the kitchen.

The laughter grew quieter as you neared the war room, but your panic didn’t cease, that is until you collided with a wall. A _human_ wall. Huge hands gripped you upper arms and you flailed out, screaming all the while,

“!” that was Sam. You could still hear that frightening laughter behind you, but Sam was squishing you to him. It was either a hug or a restraint, it wasn’t clear.

“Oh God, Dean’s _back_ there - I th-think he’s coming to get me! We have to get out of here -”

“No no, hey relax.” he interrupted, and gripped your shoulders to steady you. “He’s still chained up in the dungeon downstairs -”

“Then how can I hear him laughing at me!” the big man closed his eyes briefly at being interrupted, so you pressed your lips together like a child.

“It’s just the air ducts, he knows the sound carries. It’s just a scare tactic. . clearly it worked.” he added not unkindly. Well no shit it worked. Dean Winchester - hell - _Sam_ Winchester wants to scare somebody? It’s happening. Consider that person shitting themselves. In fact, your breaths were still coming out heavy and quick.

“Shh,” Sam turned so his arm was around you and he was squeezing you close, he continued speaking as he prompted you toward the war room, “deep breaths for me, you have to try and calm down. This isn’t good for the baby.” that struck you as an odd thing to say for some reason.

Regardless, by the time Sam sat you in a chair and put a plate of spaghetti in front of you, your nerves were still shot.

“You know what else wouldn’t be good for the baby?” you added an awkward amount of time too late, “A bottle of whiskey. But I could use one of those right about now.” Sam was settling in his chair, and snorted at your poorly timed joke.

He set a glass of water in front of you, and for some reason your mouth kept moving,

“You know what _else_ isn’t good for a baby?” you clipped a dry laugh, “Growing up without a father. But hey, looks like that ones happening regardless.” _And also the fact that I just tried to fucking drown myself._ Sam froze with a hefty bit of noodles halfway to his mouth, “Sorry. Bad joke I guess.” you mumbled, stirring your food restlessly.

A soft click of Sam’s fork resting back in his bowl had you glancing over at him,

“ -”

“Where’s Cas?” you blurted, drowning in the heavy atmosphere you created. Sam sighed, clearly a little perplexed, it was obvious that you were stalling.

“He left for the night,” he tried for a smile, “you need him to come back? It seemed like you two were bonding when Dean and I crashed in.” did you detect a hint of _jealousy_ in his tone? Even though part of you did want your new Angel friend to come back and save you from your social ineptitude, you went with the safe answer,

“No that’s okay,” you gave him a small smile before taking a giant bite of spaghetti. If your mouth was full, no more stupid shit could come out. Besides, Sam seemed content at the sight of you eating something, plus the taste was _heavenly_.  

“Mmmm. .” you moaned softly, noticing the man’s face light up with a giant smile. _Holy crap it’s like looking into the sun. I’m staring. I’m staring. He sees me staring. Oh God now he’s staring. Do I look away or. . -_

“How did you. .” Sam’s face morphed into a serious, almost nervous mask, like he was worried he was about to overstep. Whatever this was about you knew you couldn’t handle it. “get pregnant?” he finished.

 _Oh yeah this is gonna be a doozy._ Here you thought he was just going to torture you by forcing you to recount your time with Dean. That was probably coming too.

“Um,” you forced your giant mouthful of spaghetti down with a tough swallow, “Can we maybe talk about this another time. I’m exhausted and it - it’s not really first date material -”

He interrupted your joke, “Do you know who the father -”

“Sam.” you interrupted. “ _Please_. I -I just can’t do this right now.” and then as if you weren’t acting crazy enough, your face crumpled on it’s own accord and unannounced tears just started streaming down your face.

“Oh shit I’m sorry I didn’t mean to - to,” he dropped his fork and scooted his chair closer to you, “I’m sorry.” he finished, sounding a little exasperated.

You waved your hands around before covering your face, “No, no,” you laughed humorlessly, “I don’t even really know why I’m crying it j-just kind of h-happened.” your breath was coming in choppy intakes, “Maybe it’s hormones.” you laughed again, shaking your head.

_Or maybe it has something to do with keeping company with your ruthless Demon brother for the past 2 days._

“No that was stupid I shouldn’t have asked, but. .” he trailed off and you felt his big warm hand lay across your back,

“So what? You wanna know the story?” you asked kind of aggressively. Sam however didn’t look scared off like you thought he would. _Crap._ “You wanna hear how I was losing in life so I got wasted and fucked the first guy that gave me a wink? Wanna - wanna hear how I don’t even remember his name? Or what color his eyes were? How I got roughed up against the side of a dirty bathroom stall?” now you were beside yourself with how Sam only continued to stare calmly, he was even rubbing circles into your back.

It was making you angry now, “How about how I blacked out and woke up the next morning on the floor in my own vomit? Huh? Does that sound like the kind of woman that can raise a child?”

Sam took a moment before answering, and what he said was infuriating, “That was the last time you had sex?”

“Are you fucking kidding me Sam?” you whispered, staring at his impassive face, “You’re the _worst_ at this.” and with that you slammed your hands on the table to stand up, knocking your chair over in your wake.

This was all too much, you didn’t care that you were acting like a head case. The long haired Hunter just stared solemn at the table top as you stormed off to the mouth of the corridor, forgetting for a moment to be afraid of Dean’s evil taunting.

Sam didn’t move to stop you while you stomped away, but you heard his throat clear before he said something that never in a million years could you have seen coming,

“It was me.”

Back still turned on him, you froze. It was like your heart stopped. “. . I was the first guy to give you a wink. I was wearing a black shirt, my eyes are uh, brown,” your breath came harder with each second passed, the words sounded hard for Sam to force out, “and. . _I_ left you there to wake up in your own vomit, after I roughed you up against the side of a dirty bathroom stall.” the world wasn’t spinning anymore. Your brain had come to a screeching halt.

_That night. That was Sam. .? It couldn’t have been. God it’s all so foggy. ._

“?” he sounded miles away. Instead of answering him, or even turning around your body took over, and you just started running. Running away from the father of your baby, away from your problems, and down the creepy dark corridor, with no real destination in mind.

“!” that was a shout, but it didn’t sound like he was pursuing yet. Way back around the bend you him yell again, “FUCK!” followed by a crash, but you just kept moving. Stairs leading down didn’t even phase you and you took them two at a time, wishing that a solution to all of your problems would be at the base of them.

Of course they weren’t, there was only a large steel door.

Without much thought you opened it, proceeding blindly into the deepest reaches of the Bunker to avoid the deepest reaches of your mind. It opened with a low groan to reveal nothing but a small room with a giant bookcase.

Back against the far wall there was a pile of old handwritten books sitting on top of an ancient looking desk, but that was about it. Until a small detail caught your eye that is. The bookshelf was gaping open on the side nearest to you, offering a yawning dark abyss on the other side.

You stared at it, nostrils flaring and mind buzzing with the bomb Sam just dropped. . a spine tingling secret room might be a nice distraction right about now. Without much more thought you threw yourself against the heavy bookcase and pushed with all of your might.

Metal on metal screeched only a little louder than your war cries did while it took everything your small pregnant body would produce to move that wall six inches. Just wide enough for you to squeeze through.

It was so dark though.

“Hello?” you whispered shakily, squinting against the blackness. Of course there was no answer, and silly you was thinking up all of the horror movie monsters you seen in all of your life lurking in the shadows.

You were right about one thing though, this was sort of taking your mind off of Sam - _and_ Dean for that matter. Something glittered at the corner of your eye from the light in the corridor. It was a flashlight, still sitting on a small shelf on the other piece of the faux wall.

_Perfect._

The beam was bright, but the darkness was so thick that it only illuminated a few feet in front of you. Stone floor was all you saw it first as you crept forward, but after what must have been 10 yards the blank stone was interrupted by muted red paint.

The black was suffocating, you traced the light over the thick line until it curved away further than your beam would reach. Stepping up to the strange line, you could now see that there were unfamiliar designs painted on the inside,

“What the _hell_. .?” you whispered softly. It felt like you were being watched, like someone was looking at you from somewhere inside the room. Your spine was beginning to tingle, and you were sidestepping along the line so you could study each large symbol as your flashlight hit them.

So focused were you on the eerie paint that you didn’t even see anything coming until you walked right into it with a crash,

“Ow!” the metal clanging was deafening, it bounced off of the stone walls and rattled your nerves, “Shit.” you spat searching for whatever you walked into with the small beam. _There!_ A little metal gurney was tipped over on it’s side with it's items scattered all over the floor, squeaky wheels still spinning.

You squinted, holding your breath as you studied the glittering things that had been thrown off - it took you a full minute to register what you were even looking at, and when you did it was a unsettling as the dark room itself. Knives, needles, pliers, and vials full of dark liquid were among the wreckage you’d caused,

“What the hell times two.” you muttered, swallowing as you backed away from the sharp tools, to unwittingly step backward over the red line.

It was then that low chuckling permeated the quiet, and caused your back to snap up ramrod straight. The laughter grew in volume, it sounded so sinister and familiar that you thought you might wet yourself.

 _Dean_.

“No, no,” you whimpered, turning slowly around with your flashlight vibrating in your hand. The beam found Dean, his horrible grin gleaming, and his eyes black as the dungeon you’d waltzed into.

With a piercing scream, you jolted backward and tripped over your own feet, plummeting to the hard floor and dropping your light. Your ankle twisted in the fray and ignited a horrible pain all the way up to your knee cap, it left you gasping and tearing up.

To top it off your flashlight rolled away, but it still lit up your feet and Dean’s boots, with just enough glow for you to be able to see each other.

"Oh my God. ." your voice shook. Seeing him up close again was causing all of your fear to crash back into you, as fresh as it was in the cabin.

“Come on sweetheart, you interrupted my beauty sleep.” he mocked, but the blackness in his eye receded. “Just couldn’t stay away could ya?” you stared at him for a moment, clutching your ankle, before sudden burning tears made your face scrunch up.

“Oh relax, I’m fucking chained up kid.” he sounded tired. You looked to the floor in humiliation.

“I d-don’t care about that.” you whispered. The last thing you needed was a monstrous Demon mocking you after everything. Snivels and hiccups were the only sound in the room for a moment, it was odd that Dean was being quiet. . wasn’t he going to taunt you some more?

Obviously you wanted to get out of the room, but your ankle was on fire still and you couldn't really bring yourself to crawl away from him. Surprising as it was, you still had some dignity. Dean was still quiet.

Confusion made you look up again, and when you blinked away tears Dean’s expression was baffling. His brows were knitted down over his troubled green eyes, he was watching you cry on the dungeon floor with something other than malice. Something very un-Demon Dean. It was _concern_.

“What?” you spat, rubbing your injured ankle bitterly, “Don’t you have something snarky to say? Aren’t you gonna call me a slut or something?” Dean looked away and snorted,

“It’s easy to find your spunk when I’m chained to a chair isn’t it?” that shut you up. When you didn’t answer he squinted down at you again, and asked you for the second time in your life, “What’s wrong?” it was just as absurd as the first time he asked.

You scoffed, “Oh I don’t know, everything?” he watched you, his lips pursed and eyes crinkled. The expression was sympathetic. _What the hell is happening?_ You waved a hand out and when you spoke your voice was high with more threatening tears, “I -I can’t deal with this. I can’t deal with what happened out there. . and - and now Sam -”

“What about Sam?” he snapped, making you jump a little. You stared at him, wondering why the fuck you were venting to a Demon anyway. His expression softened again, “Sweetheart, you love him right?” he purred, “Tell me about it.”

Well this wasn't right, “Why do you care?” you whispered, wiping a tear. He didn’t answer, only swallowed and cleared his throat before blinking up at the ceiling. “I can't handle this," you repeated, "I'm an unfit mother." of course you wouldn't tell him why. The bathtub was your secret. Dean zeroed back in on you,

“Because?” his voice was flat,

“The. .” you cleared your throat, “The things you did - _said_ to me, I can’t get them out of my head. I just want to make it all _stop_ , it's killing me. It's eating me alive.” your voice cracked at the end, and you braced for certain torment but again he surprised you,

“I’m sorry.” he swallowed hard again, “I. . wasn’t myself.” you sneered,

“You still aren’t so save it.” he smirked at you,

“There’s that spunk again.” the smirk morphed into a smile, he nodded sharply, “Sammy’s been shootin’ me up with some kind of anti-Demon cocktail. . pretty sure it’s workin’ since I give a shit about you all the sudden.”

“You’re lying.”

“Why would I?” he smiled, “You saw those syringes yourself sweetheart, I have about 50ccs of that shit pumpin’ through my veins right about now. Burns a little.”

You swallowed, “No. . you’re a monster, Dean.” he nodded at you with his lips pursed,

“You remember how I fucked ya over the barrel, and then on the table. . how I chased ya through the field, ruffled your feathers a little bit. . all that right?”

“Of course,” your eyes were teary at hearing him describe everything so nonchalantly,

“Of course,” he repeated with a wide smile, “but you know what you forgot?” you shook your head, every nerve in your body shaking, “How I made sure Cas came to heal your baby. . how I kept you warm with a fire, some blankets, and my jacket. How I didn’t beat ya with my belt until you bled?” your (e/c) eyes must’ve been bugging, “Remember all that?”

“Yes.” you whispered,

“How about how I let you have a hot bath?” he continued keeping up a kind hue to his voice, “I didn’t hurt you when you tried to run, even though I said I would. I let you talk to Sammy to make you feel safe, you think I _had_ to do any of that?” he asked, “I could’ve ruined you. Could’ve killed your baby boy. But I didn’t, do you know why?”

“B-because Sam would have fucking killed you.” you lied to yourself, knowing deep down that Sam would never pick another person over his brother. After all Dean had _raped_ you and he was still in one piece.

“Nah,” Dean chuckled. Then he became serious and stared right at you, “Because I’m in love with you, princess.” _No. No way._

“W-what?” you whispered shakily, “I-In _love_?” he only stared. So hard you thought you were going to shatter under those green eyes. There was this warm pooling low in your belly, you recognized it from your life before. . then it made you feel sexy, excited, now it made you hate yourself. If he would just stop looking at you like that.

Dean’s full lips lifted in a knowing smirk, as if he knew where your thoughts lie, and watched your face redden. No, you couldn’t be having feelings for this man - this _thing_ \- he’d kidnapped and raped you. But he’d also been kind.

Like he said, there were things he’d done out of kindness. According to him they were out of love. _Jesus Christ what’s happening to me._ Sam, you needed to go find Sam before you did something stupid.

“I - I have to go.” you were wobbling on your bad ankle as you stood to leave, it hurt but not as much as what your broken mind was about to do to you.

“There’s something else on your mind.” he rumbled, stopping you mid-turn.

You crossed your arms and stared at the floor, "No."

“Yes. You’re a shit liar sweetheart.” you took a moment to rub your nose, “What is it? I mean besides your obvious feelings for me.”

“I don’t have feelings for you!” you cried, finally looking up at him, “Just _stop_ it.”

“Whatever you say,” he chuckled, settling in his chair, “so what’s up babe? You thinkin’ about how Sammy’s your baby daddy?” you stopped breathing,

“You know about that?” it was barely even a whisper,

“‘Course,” he grinned with a cavalier nod, “Sam told me he fucked up the morning after he poked ya. We've been keepin' an eye on you ever since. . well until I died that is. Tends to screw things up." he shrugged, and you were gaping. Sam had told Dean he fucked up.

That's what you were, a fuck up. That hurt. "You think Sam picked you up because he really _needed_ your help?" he laughed loudly at that, "Please, what use are you to us? He just didn't want me to use you to get to him." 

Dean continued speaking as if he hadn't just stabbed you in the heart, "I thought you came down here to tell me the news, I was waiting. Clearly you weren’t going to. Why is that?”

“B-because it’s none of your business.” you gulped at his expression, trying to battle down tears. His eyes looked like they were about to go black again, you knew you should just walk away now, he was twisting you up.

“See, I think you’re scared.” he guessed it. “Afraid of me, Sam, that -” he nodded at your stomach, “You’re just a little girl, scared, and in a world that she’s no match for. You think I'm a monster? You haven't seen shit.” there was an unbearable moment of silence that confirmed the eldest Winchester’s guess.

“I am. I’m scared.” you said it. Why not? He already knew anyway. “I-I don’t know what to do. . My baby is a-a prophet and that seems like the least of my problems.” Dean actually laughed,

“Hardly. You just don’t know what it means yet.” you paled, “I can help you. Why don’t we go upstairs and talk to Sam together, we’ll figure something out. We can protect you. . _I_ can protect you.”

A shrill little laugh came out of your throat, “There’s no chance in Hell I’m letting you out of that chair.”

“Okay,” Dean nodded, pushing his lips out and lifting his hands as much as he could, “whatever makes you feel safe. I’m here for you though sweetheart, and I can help you if you let me.” against all better judgement you moved toward him, within an arm's reach. His eyes remained kind, so trustworthy - and you were so naive, even after everything.

“So just let me help you,” he murmured, flicking his tongue out to wet his lips, “Sammy an’ me can make you feel safe again.”

“B-but. .” you whispered, being drawn in by those beautiful greens. They were pulling you in, making you lean closer to him.

“S’okay,” he matched your soft tone, those beautiful eyes flickering over your face, “the cure is inside of me , I can feel it working. . I’m practically human baby girl.” that was the first time he’d said your name so respectfully, and it was the last little push you needed to lean down the last couple inches and press your lips against his.

They were soft and warm. So warm. .

“Mmmmm,” you moaned on them, and broke away gently, “I can’t do this. . I-I love Sam.” you really did, and saying it out loud affirmed it. But Dean’s next sentence shocked you. . and aroused you.

“Good, we’ll go up there and tell him that. Tell him about _us_ too, he’ll be happy.” you stared at him, “This ain’t our first walk around _this_ park sweetheart.” you gulped,

“You mean. .”

“We like to share.” he wiggled his eyebrows and a cocky smile took over his face, “Key’s are on the floor by that table.” You thought about Sam, on your way to get the keys. Maybe he’d be angry with you for unchaining Dean without him. . for kissing his brother in secret.

Now that you had a chance to relax, you were ashamed that you’d run away from him after he told you he was the stranger in the bar. It probably hurt him. You should have talked it out, been an adult - you plucked the keys off of the ground and walked back to Dean - you’ll just apologize, talk to him now.

God, you wanted Sam in your life more than anything. Hopefully he wanted you.

“You know what?” you fiddled with the keys in your shaking fingers, “Maybe I should go get Sam first. I should talk to him about this anyway.” you gestured to your belly, “I-I mean I kinda ran off on him.”

Dean’s smile was so kind, “It’s okay, I’ll come with you, it's a big conversation for a little girl to have all by herself. I’ll let you talk to him alone if you want to. Not a big deal.” God the pretty man in front of you looked so. . normal.

“Okay.” your hands were trembling as you fumbled with the keys. It almost took you a full minute to get it into the keyhole, but less than a second to unlock the cuffs. As soon as they fell away, the big man was up and out of the chair quick enough to make you gasp,

“Good girl,” he grumbled, smirking so you could see his canines as he crowded into you. When he put those big hands on your hips your body jumped, and there was a buzzing of panic beginning to stir inside of you. _This was a mistake._

It was one thing to have Dean chained to a chair, but when he had his hands on you, when he was in full control, he could be intimidating. Frightening to say the least.

“Dean wait.” you whimpered, allowing him to walk you back into a wall. There was this threatening hunger in his eyes, that smirk still on his face, “Wait - I don’t know if I can do this. . I’m. . I’m s-still afraid of you.” darkness flashed in his irises, your nerves jumped,

“Aw sweetheart. .” he rumbled, bringing a hand up to lightly cup the side of your neck. He leaned down so his face was right in front of yours, “You fucking should be.” that big hand tightened on your carotid, and before you could scream your head was thrown back and cracked off of the stone wall.

Dean played you. Easily.

If you weren’t so hopeful you might have seen the menace behind his shrouded eyes while he delivered his perfect lines. You might of seen what a liar he was. Might have realized that the Winchesters, on top of all the other skills they possess, are also master manipulators. It comes with the job.

Like an expert, Dean pushed all of the right buttons.

The Demon let you drop.

A tear slid out of your eye when he crouched down next to you, “I’ll be back for you princess.” dizziness was dulling your senses, but there was no mistaking the pressure of a kiss being pressed into your left temple.

Your eyes fluttered closed. Faintly you could hear his heavy boot steps receding, as he abandoned you in the dark.

“Come on Sammy!” his voice was deep and rough. Everything was getting fainter by the second, “Don’t ya wanna hang out with your big brother? Spend a little quality time. .?” that was the last you heard before you went under.

But the last thing you thought?

_Oh fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, you fucked up - but was everything Demon Dean told you a lie?? Another update soon, we'll see if you can fix your mistake with an evil Dean on the loose in the Bunker. ;) 
> 
> Comment away lovelies <3 Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> I'm on Twitter @DirtyMind_Girl. Follow for updates, kinks, and shenanigans. <3


	9. It's All Up To Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What do you do after a fuck up? Try and fix it. Unless you're a dick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger Warnings**  
> Besides just about everything else in the warnings? Castiel is a bit of an asshole for a minute, and Reader is so terrible at hide and seek that it SHOULD be a trigger.

“Dean stop it!” you screamed breathlessly.

The tall Demon was marching down the hallway away from you, there was horrible pain in your midsection where he'd just beaten you. Your clothes were torn and almost non-existent. He was going to find Sam, and like he promised you a second ago, he was going to kill Sam.

Then come back for you.

“Dean please don’t do this!” again he ignored you, turning a corner out of sight. Without thinking you ran after him, sprinting as hard as you could with the throbbing in your torso. . he purposely hit you in the place that was most dangerous.

That wasn’t lost on you.

Regardless, you pushed forward, skidding around the corner on your bare feet to find Dean creeping slowly up behind his brother. Hammer in hand.

“SAM LOOK OUT!” you shrieked, causing the father of your baby to whirl around at your voice. Just in time to meet the back of Dean’s hammer. Blood spurted from Sam’s temple and his eyes died immediately, “NO!” you fell to your knees at the same time Sam did. He folded over and hit the ground with a heavy thud, unmoving.

Sam was dead. Sam was dead and you were alone.

Dean turned back to look at you, but your eyes were unfocused and you couldn’t tear them away from the dead man.

“Looks like it’s just you and me .” his voice was low, “You wanna play house with big bad Dean, baby girl?”  

**~~**

“ _NO!”_ you woke with a raw scream. 

_A vision. . it was only a vision. ._ Your relief was short lived when you realized that it meant Sam was still in imminent danger, and that it was up to you to stop the prophecy from coming true.

Pounding in your head was so painful that you actually wished you weren’t waking up. Echoing walls bounced your loud moan around until it seemed like it was mocking you, there was no way you were gonna open your eyes.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, dragging an arm up across the dirty floor to cup your throbbing head. It took a full five minutes for you to remember why you were laying on that cold floor in the first place, and when you did you hated yourself  more than you ever had. “Oh no, no, no. .” you moaned.

Dean had knocked you out, a very much still Demon Dean. He manipulated and lied to you, allowed you to think that he was cured, that he was human. . and you wanted to believe it so bad that, you just did.

It was that simple, that stupid. When you finally allowed your eyes to crack open, you were actually grateful for the blinding darkness of the dungeon, you didn’t think your head could handle light at the moment.

However, there was a strange red flashing coming from the entrance to the dungeon. . it looked to be dark out there as well.

_What the hell. . .?_

Faintly, you could hear shouting. Some words were unclear but you could tell it was in fact Dean.

“. . I don’t wanna leave! Not till I find you. .” his tone of voice was frightening, a few moments later you heard him yell again, “Sammy!” You whimpered, and blinked hard. _I have to stop this, I have to do something. ._

There was no way you were going to let Sam be bludgeoned to death by his brother because you had a headache. So with much pain and the loudest groan known to man, you heaved yourself from the dungeon floor.

Putting weight on your sprained ankle was the first mistake you made,

“Ahh -” you gasped, having to lean into the wall for support. . the very damp wall. Swallowing hard, you reached back and touched the part of your head that had been bounced off of the wall and found more wetness. This spot warm in nature. You were bleeding, and pretty badly at that.

Concussion or not you hobbled forward, wondering how in the hell a human girl in your condition could even begin to save Sam. If anything he was going to end up saving you.

In the darkness, you were able to picture just how he looked in your baby’s vision with that hammer sticking out of his head. . you shivered at how lifeless his eyes were. There was no way you were going to sit down there and hope it was him to come down to get you and not Dean.

It took a while for you to make passed the bookshelf and to the open door, but that didn’t stop you from reconsidering the plan when you got a load of the darkness and flashing red lights. It looked scary out there, like a warzone, and for all you knew Dean was right outside of that door waiting to clobber _you_ with a hammer.

_Happy thoughts. . happy thoughts. ._

As you were working up the nerve to step out into the battlefield, Dean’s voice called out again deep within the Bunker. Just his voice made you freeze,

“Sammy!” he drug it out gruffly, and you actually found yourself trembling in the entrance of the dungeon, “You’re just makin’ this worse for yourself man. . Oh by the way you can blame our little princess for me gettin’ loose.” you closed your eyes gently,

“I’m sorry Sam.” you whispered to no one.

While Dean’s voice was loud, it did sound like it was somewhere far away from you, and so long as he kept running his mouth you might be able to avoid him. So holding your arms up to your chest, you stiffly stepped across the doorjamb and began the long ascent up the stone stairs.

Dean continued, “All that fun we had out in the cabin well. . can hardly blame her for catchin’ some feeling’s now can we? Not with the things I did.” bile rose in your throat, “Wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed to start with anyway.”

Really you were too afraid to be angry, and if you were being honest with yourself, letting Dean out _was_ just about the dumbest thing you could have done. He tricked you, all because you let yourself hope.

“Might as well let me have her!” he roared, clearly getting annoyed that the baiting wasn’t working on his brother. You were at the top of the stairs now, panting with how hard you had to work on basically one foot, and with Dean sounding much closer it was hard to not get flustered and pick a direction.

You looked right down the stretching hallway, “Doubt you’ll be able to give her what she needs anyway!”

_Okay, that was practically right next to me._

Whirling around to face the other direction, you noticed with a terrified pooling of dread in your tummy that a broad-shouldered shadow was growing from around the corner each time the light blinked. Dean was coming down that way, leisurely but fast enough that it might be a challenge to make it around the other corner before he spotted you.  

You could even see the hammer in the shadow.

“ _Fuck_ -” you whimpered in quiet panic, lighting off down the passageway in your bare feet. You were in a full on sprint on your bum ankle, desperate to get out of sight before he rounded that corner.

Dean began to chuckle darkly, and you whipped your head around in fear expecting to see him standing in the red, but there was no one. Only a second later however you heard his sonorous voice,

“ _There_ she is!” and you screamed, spinning around and successfully landing on your ass when you stepped on your back ankle wrong. That horrible booming laughter echoed loudly down the hall, “Aw sweetheart, you barely made it five minutes before I found you. . That’s just. . _sad_.”

Standing there at the end of the hall as he was, all tall and domineering, swagger in full effect, it made your breath come short.

“L-listen,” you trembled, pressing your lips together when he huffed,

“No. I don’t think I will.” he laughed, taking a step forward. Even though he was so far away it made your heart jump, “What’s the plan sweetheart? Sneak around here and what? Stop me from killin’ your one night stand?”

“N-no I -”

“ _N_ - _no_ ,” Dean raised his tone and sniveled, he was mimicking you, “ _please_ don’t hurt me I’m just a helpless little _girl_. .” he straightened with a chuckle, “Oh my bad, I meant slut.”

“Dean _stop_ it.” you pled, hating how you were proving him right,

“Guess what sweetheart?” his voice was still back to his normal deep register, “I _am_ gonna hurt you, and I don’t care how scared you are. Know why?”

“ _Why_?” your voice was so weak and quiet, and your eyes were pricking with growing tears.

His next words more of a rumble down the corridor, “Because it turns me on.” he bounced the hammer in his hand, and sneered. It was then that you threw pride to the wind and began scrambling away,

“Sam!” you screamed, and Dean matched your volume, laughing underneath his words,

“ _Sam_ ? He isn’t coming to save you!” finally you flipped over and managed to clamber up to your one good foot, hugging the wall as you continued to limp away, “This is _your_ fuck up sweetheart!” you sucked a stuttering breath in and hedged along the wall as quickly as you could, glancing back to find that Dean had. . _disappeared_.

“Wha. .” you mouthed, staring at the empty space in the dark red light. You violently jumped when Dean called out again, his voice fading down the hall he came from,

“Run run run little girl,” he sang almost gleefully, “see you soon. .” you actually sobbed with the relief you felt at the mysterious free pass, but the weight of the game he was playing caught up almost immediately. He was toying with you, he was smarter than you, and he might really kill you.

 _And_ Sam.

“Okay, okay,” you breathed, closing your eyes for a moment. That was all it took to come up with a plan. A _good_ one for once. Your eyes came open, “Okay.” and then you were off and limping around the corner, in a feverish search of Sam and a weapon, whichever you found first.

Another bend turned right up ahead, granted you had only been in the Bunker for a few hours yet but the thing felt like a damn maze. You had no idea where you were going, and no way to find out.

Around this corner was another intersection about 50 feet ahead, and you sighed dejectedly, wondering if there was any chance at all of saving Sam. Red light still pulsed, and a quiet siren blared from somewhere deeper in the catacombs.

It was like you were in a real life horror movie, like you’d stepped into a high budget haunted house. . That was pretty accurate: Being chased by a murderous Demon under red hue and an alarm, and trying to get away on a practically broken foot? Yeah, horror movie status for sure.  

“Cas!” you yell-whispered, wincing at the jolting pain in your ankle. Upon looking down you saw that it was swollen to the size of a softball, “ _Cas_!” you whimpered, freezing suddenly when you heard footsteps.

Casual whistling took up, matching the slow lazy footsteps that were coming up on the intersection ahead. Jesus Christ he was gonna find you again, so soon. _I’m dead. That’s it._ You realized that this must be where Dean beats you, where your vision started. _He must find me now and hurt me, then move on to killing Sam._

Doing the only thing you could, you turned and pressed your back into the wall, making yourself as thin as possible so Dean might not see you in the dark. His whistling was getting louder, you squeezed your eyes closed, a few tears pressing out to stream down your cheeks.

“Castiel. . .” you wept, “Cas _please_. . I need help.” a few moments passed where you just listened to the familiar melody Dean was humming, it was "Night Moves". A fucking Bob Seger song. The innuendo was clear. “ _No_. .” you whimpered tearfully, still trying to be quiet.

A gust of wind, and a ruffle of feathers made you squeak and snap your eyes open,

“,” Castiel stood stiffly in front of you, looking more concerned than you’d ever seen him, “I came as soon as I heard you and Sam call.”

“Shh!” you reached out and grabbed at him, putting a finger up to your mouth, “It -it’s Dean. I let him out. .” the confession made you wince, and again when you saw the Angel’s face darken in the shadows,

“Who you whisperin’ with sweetheart?” Dean’s voice came from around the corner, and without another word, Castiel grabbed your upper arms and once again took you away in a blur.

Landing hurt, you had to hold on to Castiel while to keep from swaying on your ankle and this time without consent you felt two fingers press to your temple. The sharp pains disappeared within a second and your hands were being batted away from him,

“Hey!” you cried looking up to find the Angel shooting you a glare before walking away. He had transported you to none other than Dean’s room. It _smelled_ like him. That’s how you realized where you were.

“What were you thinking?” he growled, moving toward the back of the room to jerk open a drawer with a bang. When you didn’t answer he looked back at you, seething, “ . **How** did this happen?”

“I-I,” you stuttered, hugging yourself at the foot of Dean’s bed, “I mean he _tricked_ me -” 

“Tricked?” it was deadpan, he shook his head and went back to digging in the drawer,

“ _Yes_ Cas!” you cried, seeing his hackles raise at your volume. “Please stop okay? I know I fucked this up. I know.” finally the well dressed man found what he was looking for, he turned up a small bottle with a cross drawn on the front. _Holy water?_

He rolled it in his hand, grinding his teeth in thought, “You. . _fucked_ up?” hearing him curse made you flinch, “What you may have done , is kill Sam.” your mouth dropped open,

“I-I’m sorry -”

“No.” he cut you off, and slapped the bottle in your hand on his way past you. You watched him all the way to the door, “No time for that. Stay put and try not to. . fuck anything else up.”

“Cas -”

“Oh one more thing,” he snapped his arm down, unsheathing a long pointy looking spear that gleamed under the red flashing light. Naturally you took a step back from the archaic looking weapon, but Castiel flipped it over and held it handle out to you, “Take it. If something happens to Sam or myself. . you’ll need it.”

It took you a full five seconds to actually reach out and take the blade, that moment was spent imagining the horrific turn this would take if Dean managed to kill Sam and Castiel.  

No, that would not be good for you at all. With a final nod, Castiel swept out the door and into the red light, leaving you pathetically clutching your two weapons in the middle of Dean’s room.

_God help me._

Taking a few steps back into the small room, you perched gingerly on the end of Dean’s bed and hugged Castiel’s blade to your chest. So you would sit there and wait. That was what was expected right? You squeezed the Holy water tighter, at war with yourself. . _if something happens to any of these men it will be my fault, and what? I’m just supposed to sit and wait until they either catch Dean or somebody dies? No way. No, I can’t do it._

You stood up from the bed.

_I won’t do it._

Maybe it wasn’t clear to you at the moment, but a huge part of the reason you were able to force yourself out of that door, Angel blade in hand, was because you were tired of missing the badass woman you were before you met Sam.

Sure a lot of her was an act, but it was starting to become who you were. . and you _liked_ that girl. She wasn’t afraid of anything, and she wouldn’t hesitate to march up to Demon Dean and sock him in the jaw - as idiotic as that might be.

Sam and Dean destroyed that girl, and now you wanted her back. Even if that meant you had to build her up from scratch. Starting now.

So you made a beeline for Sam’s room, and didn’t even slow down as you shed his oversized sweatpants on your way to the bathroom. Exactly where you left them after your bath, your dirtied white shorts were in the corner. You put them on quickly, knowing you’d need the freedom of movement that Sam’s loose fitting pants didn’t offer.

Now that you were dressed the part, you practically ran to his bedside table and jerked open the drawer. Like you hoped, the man had a set of handcuffs hiding in there among other blush-worthy things.

_Ah Sam you kinky son of a bitch, I’ll be saving these for later. ._

It was pure luck and Winchester logic that the same markings from the pair in the dungeon were drawn on them.

“Thank you Sam.” you spun them around your finger on the way out the door, before hooking them through a loop in your shorts, leaving them open of course.

As you stomped down the dark hallway with a kind of confidence you hadn’t felt in days, the Bunker lit up with a surge. You had to blink at the sudden light, and you could faintly hear Dean call out,

“Now that’s more like it!” that meant he had to be somewhere near the main power switch; you padded on. Sucking in a breath, you did something questionable to anyone else, but it made perfect sense to you,

“DEAN!” you screamed, bending slightly with the force of your yell, “Come on out asshole, I’m ready to play!” there was anger backing your play, and that was really all you ever needed.

Of course a demonized Winchester was a much different target than a handsy drunk guy at the bar, but just like you did when you dealt with those guys, you told yourself you could handle this. And just like you did when you dealt with those guys, you didn’t allow fear to even knock. Not yet anyway.

“Hear that Sammy?” Dean answered your calls with a booming laugh, “Get ready to come save your girlfriend!” oh how wrong he was, you wouldn't need saving this time.

As a last minute thought, you shoved the long sharp blade into the side of your shorts to free your hands besides the small bottle of water in your left. Sure the blade visibly poked out the bottom and was scratching at your thigh a little bit, but you couldn’t care about that now. Not when you could hear Dean’s work boots stomping nearby, he was so close you could hear him coming over your anxious breathing.

The two of you were about to round the same corner within a breath of each other, when you ducked into a open door at the last possible second. The space was dark, probably a closet, and you left the door open so you could see him when he walked by.

“Hey sweetheart!” oh Jesus he was basically right next to you, you silently unscrewed the cap on the Holy water. _Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid. . just wait, just wait for it. ._ you weren’t breathing, too focused on your plan, “Come out come out wherever you are. . .” he leered, finally stepping into view.

Saying a final prayer to yourself you said with surprising steadiness,

“Hey _yourself_ sweetheart.” he turned and you struck out, clocking him in the nose with a closed fist. Coming out of the dark like that, you totally caught him off guard and he staggered back a little with the hit.

Of course he recovered very quickly, even giving a wheezing chuckle as he wiped his nose,

“Featherweight hit, but not bad kid - actually got the drop on me.” you sneered at him, and he shrugged, holding his arms out with the hammer in one hand, “So what now then? Was that your whole fucking plan?”

 _Yes. Yes it was._ “Consider it foreplay,” you whispered with a smile, trying to hide your worries. He straightened up, wagging his hammer at you. You swallowed, eyeing it.

“This is new,” he let his green eyes crawl over you,

“No,” you shook your head a little, “this is me. And it's been a long time coming.” he snorted a laugh, nodding and pursing his lips.

“Well _alright_ ,” he tossed his hammer to the side, and beckoned you forward, “let’s do this then - love a good wrestling match.” you smiled to hide your spike of fear. _Okay, this is okay. . I’m just gonna have to fight Dean then. . That’s - no yeah I’m okay._

The Demon smirked like he could hear your little internal pep talk.

While holding his eyes, you brought your arms behind your back and barely squeezed the bottle in your left hand. Once your skin was wet, you passed it to your right and shoved it into your back pocket.

Without even allowing yourself a deep breath you moved in on Dean who straightened up with a giant grin on his face, he wasn’t even going to fight you. . wasn’t even taking you seriously.

It was infuriating, but made it easy for you to lash out at him again, this time with an open hand. It was clear that Dean hadn’t expected you to actually attack him and he left himself with no room to dodge your hit - when he jerked backward, his back met a wall and your nails raked over his cheek with a sizzling heat.

“Shit -” he spat, bending down as his face steamed. Before he could even recover you jerked the rest of the Holy water out of your pocket and drenched him with the entire contents, flinching at his deafening roar.

Of course it was deep, but there was some kind of hair raising roughness coming from his gut - a echoing resonation mingling with his cries. It didn’t sound human at all.

Wasting no more time, you took advantage of his hunched over position, and swiftly kicked him in the face with your bare foot. It was like stubbing all five of your toes at once, but you bit back a cry.

The monster was still steaming from the water, but jerked up from your kick and pinned you with blood freezing black eyes,

“You’re fucking dead bitch,” he growled hacking up a glob of blood and spitting it to the floor. Again you kicked him, but this time in a place that would bring any man to his knees, Demon or human. Dean did just that, expelling a huge amount of air from his chest as he dropped.

Now was your chance, and you would never get another one like it. Lunging forward you tackled Dean the rest of the way to the floor with a war cry that echoed through the corridor, but it was that moment that he began to fight back a little and reached up to snap his strong hand around your throat.

“ _Ahh_ -” you choked, gripping his wrist with one hand and flailing for the handcuffs with the other. At the sight of you gasping for air, Dean actually started to smile. . even while he was still burning.

The handcuffs clanked together while you fumbled with them, having to use both hands to even get them to his wrist since your vision was already blurring. When they snapped around his arm he jerked back, growling in outrage and immediately vaulted his fist into your cheek as you gasped for air.

The impact knocked you off of him, but instead of leaving you to recover you watched through hazy vision as Dean swiftly rolled to straddle your limp form. So much pain. . but if you didn’t wake the fuck up there was going to be a lot more.

“I gotta say,” came his voice from a mile away, “didn’t peg you for much of a fighter - my mistake.” fabric tore, and you realized with a kind of sickening horror that Dean was tearing at your clothes.

 _No. ._ He was going to hurt you again. _Fighting Dean Winchester? How could I have been so stupid? It was always going to end this way._ A vomit worthy blow to the gut punctuated that thought and with a certain horror you understood that you had single handedly fulfilled the prophecy.

You would be beaten here, raped here, and then Dean would frolic off to kill his brother in front of your eyes.

“St-stop. .” you slurred, reaching out for him hazily. Panic was starting to make you more alert, his rough hands were crawling all over you, those callouses so horribly familiar. “ _No_!” you sobbed, grabbing at you clothes frantically as he tore them away.

Your hand touched something cold. Something that reminded you that you had a plan, a purpose. If Dean succeeded in subduing you now, Sam was as good as dead.

_If I give up I kill Sam._

With a whimper and no courage at all, you gripped the handle of the Angel Blade hiding in your barely intact shorts and jerked it free. Dean was so focused on destroying you yet again, that he didn’t see the attack coming until it was too late.

You lifted the Blade and plunged it through muscle and bone, his scream was gut wrenching, but the way he went slack froze your soul. Using all of your adrenaline and every ounce of muscle you owned, you somehow managed to lever Dean up and off of you, rolling over to get to your hands and knees.  

The Blade pulled out of his shoulder with a sickening suck, and the dangerous man jerked, groaning in agony. All you had to do now was lock the other cuff around his wrist and this would be over.

Dean started to get up though.

“Fucking _really_?” you panted, completely exhausted from the fight so far. This guy was resilient for sure, he just didn't stop.

Honestly what you did next was completely unorthodox and bizarre, but it was all you had energy for right then. You sidled up next to him facing his waist and threw a leg over his shoulders, successfully slamming him back down to the stone under you and pinning him to the floor via reverse face straddle.

Not your proudest moment, but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.

Dean squirmed and huffed, admittedly a very uncomfortable feeling for you down below, but you chose to ignore it and once again plunged the shiny Blade into his opposite shoulder to quell his movement.

The Demon answered with a deep roar between your thighs, the sound and feeling had you hurrying to drag his arms together and cuff him.

“!” that was Sam. You snapped your eyes up to find the youngest Winchester standing at the end of the hall breathing heavily and gaping at you. It must’ve been a sight. When he moved forward you practically screamed,

“No! No don’t you fucking dare take this from me,” you were panting, “I beat him. _I_ did this.” Sam did stop advancing but he didn’t look convinced quite yet, however when Castiel rounded the corner behind him, both men simply watched while you finish your fight.

Looking rightfully concerned.

Just as you were securing the other metal bracelet around his wrist, you felt his stubbled face drag across the inside of your thigh and you grimaced at how close he was to home.

Those soft blood slicked lips slid open on the meat of your thigh, and you felt sharp teeth and a smile a millisecond before it happened. You snapped the cuff closed and Dean snapped his mouth closed.

Blinding pain ignited where his teeth sunk gum deep into your inner thigh, and your shriek was so violent that you could taste your own blood. Of course the first thing you did was try and jerk away from him, but the pain was unbearable, you were seeing white.

“STOP!” you wailed, feeling him chuckle with a mouthful of leg, “SAM!” the big man ran to your side, yelling at his brother something that you couldn’t focus on but Dean’s bite held. He was going to take a chunk of your leg with him. “ _PLEASE_!” you finally begged him, but of course he didn’t relent.

After a few more seconds of torture you finally threw both fists down hard into his groin. Just as you hoped, it made him yell and his teeth drug out, pulling on your skin as they did.

Going limp, you slid off of the big Demon like jello, and for a moment you both layed on the floor together panting and bloody. _Oh my God. ._

“I did it.” you whispered, “I fucking _did_ it.” your victory was short lived. Castiel wrapped a hand around your upper arm and jerked you up from the floor in a less than gentle fashion, “ _Ow_!” you whimpered. Most of your tenderness was coming from the vicious bite between your legs, but your whole body was sore.

Sam was pulling his brother up as well, taking care to pull the Blade out from his shoulder and toss it to the floor. Dean was groaning in pain, eyes jet black, but he wasn’t fighting anymore. Your blood dribbled down his chin, and when he saw you staring he smile wide with a wink that made your stomach roll.

Those usually gleaming teeth were crimson. It was a picture worthy of nightmares really.

“Move Dean,” Sam grunted, shoving his brother in the direction of the dungeon you supposed. He turned back to you and Cas as Dean stumbled forward, “Cas, heal her would ya?”

The Angel’s grip tightened on your arm, making you wince,

“No.”

You whirled on him, “W-what? Why not?” he squinted down on you,

“You were reckless and foolish, a little pain seems to me a minor consequence for the injuries you could have sustained. Unlike the alternative, a bite and some bruises will not kill you."

"My baby -"

"He is fine," the Angel interrupted rudely, "his heartbeat sounds strong, and. . he is proud of his mother." you gaped, wondering if you'd heard that correctly, "Sam can assist you in dressing your. . _bite_ wound.” you sputtered, skipping over the proud thing for now,

“But - but I’m really _hurt_ Cas. .” his eyes softened, but he looked away quickly so you might not see it,

“Guilting will not work on me . I am an Angel of the Lord," he lied, it was clearly working a little. Angel or not, "Trillions of millennia old - I advise you save your breath.” even though your leg was on fire, you decided not to push it for now. You’d get him later.

Sam’s eyes then turned down a little hard on you, “You and I have a date . We need to talk about -” he paused for a moment, looking a little overwhelmed, "Everything." he finished.

You nodded, deflating by the second, “Okay Sam.” it was a whisper, shame had you looking to the blood spotted floor. What you didn’t see coming was a sudden arm around your waist, or Sam pulling you into him.

Looking up in shock, you found the big man actually smiling down you a little with a hint of a gleam in his eye. Then planted right smack dab in the middle of your sweaty forehead was a kiss. He squeezed you hard,

“But I’m proud of you.” he rumbled quietly. Your chest swelled, it felt like your heart was going to burst. _The Sam Winchester proud of little ole you?_ Castiel cleared his throat quietly, when you glanced over at him he gave you a stubborn nod.

It told you he was proud too.

“I-I’m sorry,” you told them quietly, glancing at over at Dean for a second. He was watching with a very pouty expression, “for letting him trick me, for being stupid and emotional. . I’m sorry I almost got everyone killed. And _Sam_?” you gulped, more afraid of what you were about to say then when you faced an actual _Demon_ a moment ago,

“I uh, love you. Really.” it was the truth, and you needed to say it before you missed your chance. When you looked up again, Sam’s face was completely open, his heart was shining through his beautiful hazel eyes.

All of your pain was numb for a moment.

He leaned down to whisper, “I love you too.” and it was all you needed to hear. Those words healed every worry, the foremost one being that Sam thought of you and your child as a “fuck up” as his brother had said.

“You and I have a date .” Sam repeated his words much softer than before, it was clear that this was the kind of date you would enjoy.

Of course Dean had to ruin the moment, “I know I’m not the most popular kid in the room right now, but if you two keep this shit up I’m gonna spew.” you were still beaming up at Sam when you said,

“I hope you fucking choke on it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment away lovelies! <3 Love to hear from you!
> 
> Among the things that occur in the next chapter: Dean is finally cured. So we get to see him and Reader sort of "meet" each other for the first time. Cue angst, PTSD, and all of the things that come with recovery. Also, Sam lovins', painful fluff, smutty smut smut, and another good ole' twist. ;) Gotta move that plot!
> 
> Find me on Twitter @DirtyMind_Girl - I wanna see ya'll on there!


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